Points in Between
by luli27
Summary: Series of one shots giving us glimpses into the lives of BB during the four years between Starting and Breaking Point. Most will be songfics. 1st chapter has been re-posted, 2nd is new. Rating will change.
1. Touch Point

**Touch Point **(Formerly Shelter, Sanctuary and Support)

**A/N2: **Ok, quite a few people asked me what happened in the four year gap between Starting and Breaking Point and how did the couple in the first fic get to be the couple in the second fic? They almost sound like different people. I wrote Starting Point after I wrote Breaking Point but I tried to forecast what would come later. And in Breaking Point, I tried to explain a little what made Brennan regress so much. But I understand you guys wanting to know what happened in those years. I won't write a proper fic covering those years because in my mind they're settled. I just can't come up with a story for them but I can give you one shots that give us glimpses into BB's lives in those years. Most will be songfics that I think fit BB and which show them in different situations. This first chapter is a repost but the next one is a new one. Please let me know what you think.

**Disclaimer: **Neither the characters nor the song are mine, more's the pity.

**A/N:** I know I said I was going to concentrate on Aliens but I heard this song and I had to write this! And less than four hours later, it was written. This may very well be the fastest I've written a fic. Again, it's somewhat different than my usual and though, it's fluffy, it is not what you'd call happy. It's BB, though, dont worry about that. Ok, the song is "For You I Will" by Monica. Please let me know what you think, like I said it's different and I'd like to know your thoughts on it.

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"So, sweetie," Angela said, as she walked into Brennan's office. "Are you ready for Valentine's Day? Today is also sort of an anniversary for you guys, isn't it?" Angela asked, rubbing her hands together, with an unholy gleam in her eyes, as she dropped onto the chair in front of Brennan's desk. The gleam and wide smile slowly faded, as she took a good look at Brennan's face. "Sweetie," she said, as she leaned forward, "What is it? What's wrong? Did you two have a fight or something?"

"No," Brennan answered, shaking her head, as she slowly put down the report she had been reading when Angela walked in. "We didn't."

"Then what is it?" Angela pressed, but couldn't wait for Brennan to answer; too many bad things were going through her mind at the moment. "Is it Booth? Is something wrong with him? Or your dad? Russ?"

"No, no," Brennan answered, putting her hand up to stop the deluge of questions coming from Angela. If she wasn't so worried about the news she'd just gotten, she'd find Angela's reaction funny. "It's not my dad or Russ. They're fine."

"So, it's Booth," Angela concluded. "Is it Parker? Is he ok?"

"Angela," Brennan said firmly, stopping another litany of questions from getting started. "Both Booth and Parker are okay," she told the worried artist.

"Then what is it?" Angela asked after a few moments, when Brennan didn't go on.

"Well," Brennan said with a deep sigh. "I just received the record for that soldier the Army sent us a few days ago."

"Oh," Angela said, as she reached forward to receive the folder from Brennan. "Major Edward Roberts, 27, engaged. That's sad," Angela said with a small shake of her head. "They're always sad," she added, studying Brennan's face. "Why is this one affecting you so badly?"

"He was in the same outfit as Booth, Angela," Brennan informed her, in a low voice.

"Oh," Angela said again, blinking slowly, as she looked back down at the folder. She saw the outfit's name, but it didn't mean anything to her; she figured that Brennan would know better than her what outfit Booth was with while he was a Ranger. "Do you think Booth knew him?"

"Yes," Brennan answered simply. "I'm pretty sure he did."

"How can you be so sure?" Angela asked, as she put down the folder and settled back onto her chair.

"I . . ." Brennan opened her mouth and then closed it without saying anything. She was never sure how much of what Booth shared with her was ok to share with Angela. "I really don't think I can go into it, Angela. Booth told me and I don't think he'd like it if," she started to explain, apologetically, when Angela interrupted her.

"He wouldn't like it if you told me," Angela said, with a nod. "I understand, Bren. No hard feelings. There are some things you share with your significant other that you wouldn't want to share with anyone else. So, don't worry about it. Just tell me whatever you're comfortable telling me. If that's only that you're sure Booth knew him, then that's fine too."

"Thanks, Angela," Brennan said, with a small smile, thankful her best friend was so understandable. "I think that Booth not only knew Major Roberts, but that he was there when he was killed."

"Oh," Angela said, for the third time, for once, at a loss as to what to say. "What are you going to do?" Angela asked, knowing there was no point in asking whether she was sure.

"What can I do?" Brennan asked, as she picked up the folder and stood up. "I'm going to send the remains and the information back to the Army, like always."

"I meant about Booth, Bren," Angela clarified, as she followed suit and also stood up. "Are you going to tell him or keep it to yourself?"

"I don't think I can keep it to myself," Brennan said, sighing, as she stopped putting the papers together and looked back up at Angela. "That's too close to lying and I don't lie to Booth. Plus, he knows me too well; one look at me and he'll know something's up."

"Yes," Angela nodded. Booth did know Brennan remarkably well; but the opposite was true, also. "Are you going to tell him tonight or wait until after Valentine's Day?"

"I'd love to wait until tomorrow," Brennan admitted, with a rueful smile. "But I won't be able to act naturally tonight, and enjoy the evening, knowing this. And he'll know something's wrong."

"He probably will," Angela agreed. "I guess you'll have to tell him tonight then."

"I was actually thinking of telling him during lunch," she said, as she looked at her watch. "He called me an hour ago, and we're meeting at the diner in less than two hours." After saying that, she let the papers she was holding drop back to her desk, even as she fell back onto her chair. "What am I going to do, Angela?" She asked, in a rough whisper, as she dropped her head onto the chairs back and closed her eyes. "How am I going to tell him?"

"Ah, sweetie," Angela said, as she walked around the desk and gripped one of Brennan's hands. "You'll just tell him straight out. It's the way you work best and the best way, really."

"He's not going to take it well," Brennan predicted, almost as if she hadn't heard what Angela said. "He's going to blame himself."

Angela had to bite her tongue to stop herself from asking why Booth would do such a thing; she knew Brennan wouldn't answer.

"How am I going to help him?" Brennan asked, again, and Angela wasn't sure if Brennan was asking her or just voicing her doubts out loud.

"Sweetie," Angela answered, regardless of Brennan's intentions, she couldn't stay quiet when her friend was so distraught. "You just have to be there for him; let him know that you'll be there to hear him out, if he needs to talk, or just to hold him, if that's what he needs. Tell him that he's not alone and that you'll always be there when he needs you. Basically, you have to do for him, what he does for you, when you're the one in pain."

Brennan opened her eyes and looked at Angela for a few moments before she finally nodded. "You're right," she said as she sat up. "That's just what I have to do. I have to try and be Booth."

"Yep," Angela agreed, with a grin, as she started to walk to the office's door. "You get to be the sensitive, caring, emotionally stable one in the relationship tonight." She turned around in time to catch Brennan's grimace at that prospect. She laughed before sobering up and sincerely telling her, "Don't worry so much, Bren. You know Booth better than anyone; you'll know what you need to do."

"Thanks Angela," Brennan said sincerely, with a small smile, watching as the other woman waved and left her office. With a sigh, she turned back to her desk and began to once again put in order all the paperwork to send along with the remains of Major Roberts.

-----------------------

More than five hours later, Brennan walked into the Hoover building, wondering if Angela had overestimated her power and knowledge to help Booth. He had been in such a good mood when she met him at the diner for lunch, she remembered, as she stopped in front of the elevator. She hadn't wanted to ruin it and had tried to act normal so that they could at least enjoy their lunch. But like she had predicted, he knew her too well and had known that something was wrong pretty quickly.

Trying to deny it, or put it off, hadn't worked, so she had finally caved and told him. She closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to erase the memory of his face as he absorbed the news. It was a look she never wanted to see on his face again and she'd do almost anything to make sure that he never had a reason to don it again. She opened her eyes when the ping of the elevator announced its arrival and she stepped in, after the people coming down had left. Given the late hour, she had the elevator to herself and she slumped against the elevator wall as soon as the door closed.

Pressing the button for his floor, she decided that the awful silence that followed her news was as bad as the look on his face. Booth was never silent; whether he was mad, scared, tired, happy, or aroused, he always had something to say. To see him so quiet and withdrawn, was like seeing a stranger, and she hadn't known how to react.

She didn't know what to do with a Booth that had nothing to say. How was she supposed to know what to say if he didn't give her anything to work with? How was she to know what he needed, when he shut down, and looked at her out of eyes that showed none of the emotions he usually exuded? How could she help him, if he looked as if he didn't want help?

With a sigh, she straightened when the elevator arrived at his floor; she put those questions out of her head, walked out of the elevator, towards his office, truly determined, she was going to help him. He had always helped her, when she needed it and she had to – no, she needed to do the same for him. Knowing he was hurting and not doing something about it hurt, so, she darn well was going to do something about it.

All the fire and determination she felt left her when she arrived at his office door and saw him slumped on his chair, with his eyes closed, and his face drawn, as if he were in pain. With a look around her, and silent thanks that the floor was pretty much deserted, she stepped into his office, and quietly closed the door. She leaned against the door for a minute and just studied him.

It seemed inconceivable that this was the same man that had just, that morning, jumped out of bed, and chased her to the bathroom, laughing all the way. Now, he looked sick; almost as if he'd caught some incurable disease and was dying. No, she resolutely shook her head, and banished such thoughts. He was not dying; he was sad, and depressed, but he wasn't sick, and he was not dying. With one last, deep, breath, she let go of the door and took one step forward.

"Booth," she said softly, as she walked around his desk, towards his chair.

"Bones," he said, as his eyes opened. "What are you doing here?"

"I came by to see if you were ready to go home," she told him, as she leaned on his desk, facing him. "It's past seven, and since you haven't called, or stopped by to make sure I left at an appropriate hour, I thought maybe you'd gotten caught up in work and needed me to come and make you go home for once."

"Past seven?" he asked, absentmindedly looking at his watch. "Sorry, I hadn't realized it was so late. But you didn't need to come all this way; you could have just called."

"Booth it's not that far," she protested, and watched, as he turned his attention to his desk, and tried to figure out what to do with the papers on it. "Besides, don't you remember? Tonight's Valentine's Day. We were supposed to go out." She told him, not because she had any intention of going out, but because she wanted to see some reaction from him, other than apathy.

"Valentine's," Booth murmured, as if he'd never heard of the holiday before. "I'm sorry, Bones. I got caught up in work and forgot all about it. You think maybe we could celebrate it some other night?" he asked her, with a poor imitation of his usual charm smile.

"Sure, Booth," Brennan answered, studying him closely. "I don't care when we celebrate it. After all, February 14th is an arbitrary date, to celebrate what has basically become a commercial holiday. The meaning, if it ever had any meaning, has by now been lost to the over commercialization of the day, and is buried beneath a mountain of flowers, candy and/or jewelry."

She stopped to see if he would roll his eyes, and take the opportunity to stop the lecture, saying that she was too analytical. But when he just nodded, and continued to stare at the same piece of paper he'd picked up minutes ago, and which she was willing to bet he hadn't read, she just closed her eyes and tried to think of what to do.

"What I do care about," she continued, after a few moments of silence, "is when you shut me out, don't tell me what's bothering and don't let me help you through it," she said, gently, but with enough force, that his head snapped up to look at her.

"Bones, I. . ." he started to say, only to check his head, and drop his eyes back to his desk.

"Booth, please," she told him, as she moved closer to him, and placing a finger beneath his chin, raised his head. "Talk to me, let me help you. Please," she entreated him, looking steadily into his eyes.

"I don't know what to tell you, Bones," he said, softly.

"Whatever it is that you're feeling right now," she told him, and with a faint grin, she added, "Isn't that what you're always telling me?"

"Yes, but," he said, shaking his head. "I'm not sure where to start, or what is it that I'm feeling, really."

"You start at the beginning," she told him simply. "And you'll figure out what it is that you feel, as you start talking," she added firmly and from experience. "The important thing is to talk. If you don't, everything you're feeling will just stay inside you, and will fester until it poisons you." She paused and looking at him she chided, "You know all this, Booth. You've told me often enough."

"I know," he said, before he sighed, and rubbed his hands over his face. He then sat back on his chair, gazed at her, and started talking, "I just don't like to go back there, you know?"

"I know," she said, softly with a nod, and then because he needed it, and frankly, so did she, she pushed back from the desk, took a few steps, and sat on his lap. Placing one of her arms behind his neck, and the other around his waist, she laid her head on his shoulder and told him, "I'm here, Seeley. I'll always be here."

"Thank you, Temperance," he said, after kissing her forehead. A few minutes later, he started to talk. "There's so much hatred in the world; so much death."

"I know," she nodded, thinking of all the dead bodies she'd seen, of all the bones she'd had to identify in the past. She shifted on his lap, and got more comfortable, as he finally started to talk, and tell her about the things he'd never really talked about with anyone before.

And in the next hour, Brennan was for Booth what he'd always been for her: the strength and support he needed as his past rose and overshadowed his present.

As they arrived home, later that night, Brennan remembered the CD she'd burned earlier that week. Since she didn't agree with the commercialization of the holiday, they'd agreed to not exchange presents - at least not ones that were bought. Angela had given her the idea a few weeks ago, and despite the fact that it made her feel like a teenager with a crush, she'd spent most of her free time looking for songs that reminded her of him and their relationship and made him a CD of them.

"I have something for you," she said, as they cuddled on the sofa, after eating dinner. She shifted, pulled her purse closer to her and took out the CD. "Here, I made this for you. I hope you like it," she told him, as she leaned forward to give him a gentle kiss. "Happy Valentine's Day," she whispered, against his lips.

"Bones," he said turning the CD over in his hands. "Thank you. Your present is back at my place. I'm sorry, I thought we'd end up back there," he started to apologize, but she cut him off.

"I don't mind, Booth, really." With a smile, she took back the CD and walked to her stereo. "You can listen to the whole thing later if you want, but right now," she paused and he was surprised and touched to see her blush. "Well, everything that's happened tonight . . . I just think it's appropriate. And it's how I feel - how _you_ make me feel, and how I hope _I_ make you feel. Oh," she added, when she saw his grin, "let's just listen, ok?" She asked, before turning around to hit play, after finding the right track number.

"Come here, Temperance," Booth said softly, when she seemed to be considering staying by the stereo. With a soft smile, she turned and walked back towards the couch. She sat down and snuggled back into him and both turned their attention to the song.

_When you're feeling lost in the night,  
When you feel your world just ain't right,  
Call on me, I will be waiting  
Count on me, I will be there  
Anytime the times get too tough,  
Anytime your best ain't enough  
I'll be the one to make it better,  
I'll be there to protect you,  
See you through,  
I'll be there and there is nothing  
I won't do_

_I will cross the ocean for you  
I will go and bring you the moon  
I will be your hero your strength  
Anything you need  
I will be the sun in your sky  
I will light your way for all time  
Promise you,  
For you I will_

_I will shield your heart from the rain  
I will let no harm come your way  
Oh these arms will be your shelter  
No these arms won't let you down,  
If there is a mountain to move  
I will move that mountain for you  
I'm here for you, I'm here forever  
I will be your fortress, tall and strong  
I'll keep you safe,  
I'll stand beside you, right or wrong_

_I will cross the ocean for you  
I will go and bring you the moon  
I will be your hero your strength  
Anything you need  
I will be the sun in your sky  
I will light your way for all time  
Promise you,  
For you I will_

_For you I will, lay my life on the line  
For you I will fight, oh  
For you I will die  
With every breath, with all my soul  
I'll give my world, I'll give it all  
Put your faith in me (put your faith in me)  
And I'll do anything_

_I will cross the ocean for you (I will cross the ocean)  
I will go and bring you the moon(yeah I'll bring the moon)  
I will be your hero your strength (oh I will be your hero)  
Anything you need (I will be oh)  
I will be the sun in your sky  
I will light your way for all times  
Promise you (promise you)  
For you I will_

_I will, I will, I will_

"Temperance," Booth whispered, after the song ended. He had to pause, to take a deep breath, and control the emotions that had reared up, and grabbed him by the throat. After swallowing down the impulse to break out into sobs, he managed to choke out, "I love it. Thank you, Temperance. It's the best Valentine's gift I've ever gotten."

"You're welcome," she said, blinking away a few tears of her own. Seeing him emotional always affected her too. "It's appropriate, isn't it? You're always there for me."

"And you're always there for me," Booth said, as he pulled her in for a kiss, "So, yes, very appropriate."


	2. Compass Point

**Compass Point**

**Disclaimer: **No, they're not mine.

**A/N:** This one shot was sort of a challenge I set for myself. My friends over at the ABY always tease that I don't know the definition of short and I wanted to see if I could write a chapter that was at most 5 pages long. I did it! But boy was it hard; I don't think I'd be doing it again any time soon. I also wanted to write more of a mood piece fic and not the usual exposition stories I mostly write. When I heard this song, the images that came to mind were so vivid that that was what I wanted to show. I wanted the scene to convey the feelings rather than have the characters do it. I don't know if I'm explaining this right; I wanted to write a more abstract piece, I think it's what I wanted to do. I'm just experimenting with different styles, please let me know if I succeeded and what you think about it. The song is Ever The Same by Rob Thomas. It's a beautiful song written by Rob Thomas for his wife when she was sick and I thought it fit BB perfectly.

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"We better get out of these wet clothes fast," Booth said, as he closed the door to Brennan's apartment, after they'd entered. "Or we'll get sick." It was a stormy and cold night; the only reason Brennan and Booth had been out was because they'd been called to process a crime scene. Though, the body had been found inside an abandoned warehouse, they had still gotten soaked on the walk to and from the car.

Brennan nodded and moved towards the bedroom without saying anything. Booth sighed as he watched her go, the darkness of the apartment seeming to swallow her – the nightlight in the corridor insufficient to ward off the shadows around her. She hadn't said more than five words all the way back from the crime scene.

It had been a brutal crime site but then all crime sites involving children were. This one had affected Brennan more than usual as it was the latest in a streak of murders involving foster kids. They had found four victims already and the way things were going, they were sure to find more. Booth was having the usual difficulties dealing with it but at the moment he was so concerned about Brennan and how she was feeling to worry about his own reaction.

He shuddered with cold, as a drop of water from his hair made its way down his back. He passed his hands through his hair, spraying water droplets around him as he walked towards the kitchen, his way illuminated by the frequent lighting. He shrugged out of his coat and draped it over a kitchen chair before putting the kettle on the stove for some coffee.

He gripped the edge of the counter next to the stove and dropped his head forward; closing his eyes to try and get his thoughts in order. But images of what he'd seen the last few days started to play behind his closed eyelids instead. He shook his head roughly and pushed back from the counter. He breathed deeply and reached out to turn on the light on top of the stove. After the light dispelled some of the shadows in the kitchen, he turned and started towards the bedroom. The only sound in the apartment the pounding of the rain against the windows and the roof.

He took off his sweater and started to toe off his shoes when he stepped into the bedroom. The sight of Brennan sitting on the bed, with a lost look on her face, froze him in his tracks. She was wearing a tank top and underwear and holding a pair of sweat pants in her fists. The only light in the room came from the bathroom and the darkness seemed to echo the desolation Brennan was feeling.

_We were drawn from the weeds __We were brave like soldiers __Falling down under the pale moonlight __You were holding to me __Like a someone broken __And I couldn't tell you but I'm telling you now_

He sighed deeply and finished taking off his shoes before walking to the bed. He threw his sweater towards the closet and sat down next to her.

"Temperance," he said softly, reaching out to take a hold of her chin and turning her face towards his. "Hey," he said, as he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight against him, "It'll be ok, I promise, it'll be ok." She resisted for a minute, trying to pull back. He didn't let her retreat and put both his arms around her.

At the feel of his warm arms around her, she gave in and fell against his chest. "Booth," she murmured, as she burrowed into his chest and grabbed his t-shirt in her fists. The feeling of safety his arms gave her penetrated the shield she'd erected against her feelings and she finally let go, sobbing out all the despair and anger she'd been holding in.

_Just let me hold you while you're falling apart __Just let me hold you so we both fall down_

"Shush," he whispered, as he buried his face in her hair. "I'm here; you're ok. Everything will be fine," he told her quietly, while she continued to cry. He swallowed hard to disperse the knot in his throat before shifting and closing his arms more securely around her.

She was such a strong woman that the sight and the sound of her crying always brought him to his knees and made him feel impotent. That feeling of helplessness combined with all the feelings the case had sparked and soon he was shedding his own tears into her hair.

They stayed like that, wrapped around each other, finally letting go of the pain, until the kettle started hissing. At the sound, Booth reluctantly pulled away.

"The water's ready," he said. "Why don't you finish getting ready while I get us some coffee, hmm?" he asked her, with a small smile, while he softly wiped her cheeks clean of tears.

"No," she shook her head, rubbing her own hands over her face. "You still haven't changed out of those damp clothes," she said, as she put on the sweat pants that had fallen over when she turned to him. "You change and I'll go get the coffee ready," she told him, as she stood up and stuffed her feet into her slippers.

"If you're sure," Booth said, looking at her from the bed.

"I am," she said firmly. "I'll see you in a little bit," it was said as a statement but Booth nodded nonetheless. With a small smile, she turned and walked out. Booth watched her leave the bedroom before getting up and changing his clothes.

_Fall on me __Tell me everything you want me to be __Forever with you forever in me __Ever the same_

A few minutes later, he walked into the kitchen wearing the matching outfit to Brennan's: gray sweat pants and an old FBI shirt. She hadn't turned on the overhead light and the light from above the stove backlit her figure, as she sat at the table, staring into her cup.

"You okay?" he asked, as he sat down next to her. He looked into his cup and frowned at what he saw. "Bones, what's this? It doesn't look like coffee."

"That's because is not," she answered simply with a shrug. "It's tea. Neither of us needs caffeine this late at night."

Booth opened his mouth to protest but decided to let it be. She was right; sleep was going to be hard to come by as it was, they didn't need any more stimulant.

"How you doing?" he asked again, studying her closely.

_We would stand in the wind __We were free like water __Flowing down __Under the warmth of the sun __Now it's cold and we're scared __And we've both been shaken __Look at us __Man, this doesn't need to be the end_

"Okay," Brennan answered with a shrug.

"Bones," Booth said slowly. "Don't; don't dismiss this." He reached over and took a hold of her hand as he said, "Please.

"It's just . . . hard," she sighed, shifting her hand in his grip and lacing her fingers through his. "Seeing what was done to those children," she shook her head. "They were so young, had all their life in front of them. All that potential and promise snuffed out because one man was sick enough or evil enough and no one did anything. More than twenty years, Booth," she exclaimed, "and no one stopped him. No one tried to stop him because of the kids he picked – no one cared enough to make the effort."

"We care, Bones," Booth pointed out. "We care and we will stop him."

"Yes," she said, as she calmed down. "We do and we will but how many kids have lost their lives?"

"I don't know," he answered, quietly. "Too many, far too many. One child losing his life is one too many." Something in his voice touched her and made her come out of her own pain long enough to notice his.

"Yes, one child is one too many," she agreed before squeezing his hand and asking, "how are you doing?"

"Me?" Booth asked. "I'm doing fine." At her look, he sighed and added, "Cases involving kids are always hard – harder than the rest."

"Yes, they are," she agreed. "But I never realized just how much harder these cases are for you."

"What do you mean?"

"I've known Parker for years," Brennan said, "but it wasn't until this case that I realized what you go through during these types of cases. Suddenly, when I look at the victims, all I can see is Parker lying there in their place and how I would feel if it _was_ him."

"Oh, Bones," he sighed, as he saw her eyes filling up again.

"They were so young, Booth," she said, as the tears started to fall again. "So young and no one protected them. What's worse, no one cared they were dead. No one!"

"Come here," he said, as he pulled her onto his lap. "We care," he repeated. "We care." She burrowed into his chest for the second time that night. And for the second time that night, he buried his face in her hair and they held each other as they broke down.

_Just let me hold you while you're falling apart __Just let me hold you so we both fall down_

"How do you do it, Booth?" she asked a few moments later.

"You just do it, Bones," he shrugged. "Yes, it's hard. But having Parker makes it easier in the end. He's the reason I keep going when that's the last thing I want to do. He's the reason why I get up the mornings when it seems that as soon as I put one bad guy away, three more seem to come out of the woodwork. He's the future – he's my hope for the future."

_Fall on me tell me everything you want me to be __Forever with you __Forever in me __Ever the same __Call on me __I'll be there for you and you'll be there for me __Forever it's you __Forever in me __Ever the same_

"He's your strength," Brennan said with a nod. "Your love for him gives you strength."

"Yes, it does. But so does my love for you," he told her with the smile he reserved only for her. "Bones, love should not be a burden to bring you down. Love should give you the strength to face and overcome all the burdens life throws your way."

She nodded again and laid her head on his shoulder for a few moments until Booth shifted and said, "Come on, let's go to bed. Tomorrow will be a long day. We need our rest."

"Yes, we do," she agreed and got up from his lap. She took the mugs to the sink and Booth went to the door to make sure it was locked. When he was done, he waited for her in the kitchen's threshold while she turned off the light above the stove. Hand in hand, they walked into the bedroom.

Less than ten minutes later, Booth turned off the bathroom light and slid into bed. She cuddled next to him and looking at the window, said, "I hope the sun comes out tomorrow."

"It will," he said confidently. "No matter how long it rains, the sun always comes out in the end. She smiled in the darkness and feel asleep thinking of the sun and how Booth's love was always there warming her, no matter how cold things got.

_You may need me there __To carry all your weight __But you're no burden I assure __You tide me over __With a warmth I'll not forget __But I can only give you love_

A few hours later, the sun came out shinning light to all those places that the night had shrouded in darkness and drying everything the rain had touched. It was the dawn of a new day and the light of the sun washed away all the doubts and fears of the night before.


	3. Point of Order

**Point of Order**

**Disclaimer: **No, they're not mine.

**A/N: **Well, here's the next one shot and it is another challenge - this time from my friend Fab from the Aby. She said how she found some legal terms sexy and I said really? and somehow, I ended up accepting a challenge to write a legal, sexy fic! You'd think it would came easier to me; not so. This has probably been one of the hardest fics for me to write. But it's done!!!! Fab, I finally wrote it!! Hope it's what you wanted; I did have to change a few things but I think I stayed true to the spirit of the challenge. Hope you guys like it. Please, let me know what you think.

-------------------------------

"Objection," the defense attorney cried out. "That question is irrelevant to the matter at hand."

The judge turned to the plaintiff's attorney, nodded and said, "Mr. Brown, please restrict yourself to matters pertaining to this case."

"Yes, your honor," the attorney agreed. "Isn't it true," he continued, as he turned back to face the witness, "that your relationship with the accused interferes with your . . .?"

"Objection," the lovely and intelligent defense attorney called out once again, interrupting the question. "He's leading the witness."

"Sustained," the judge once again agreed. "Mr. Brown," the judge began but was interrupted by the admonished attorney.

"I'm sorry, your honor," the attorney said, though he didn't sound very apologetic, "I'll rephrase the question." He turned back to the witness stand and asked, "Have you ever lied or done anything else to compromise a case in order to protect the defendant, Dr. Brennan or her reputation?"

Special Agent Seeley Booth shifted in his seat before answering, "No." And he firmly banished any thoughts of picking up and hiding earrings from crime scenes. That didn't count; Brennan hadn't been guilty, so he hadn't compromised any case, because there hadn't been any case to compromise. He also banished the memory of letting Russ go see his daughter before arresting him – Russ hadn't really been wanted on an active case, after all. The few hours delay in arresting him did not compromise any case. That was his story and he was sticking to it.

"Never?" the attorney insisted. "You've never ignored your responsibilities as an officer of the law to protect her?"

"I'm not sure what you mean," Booth answered. "Do you mean, have I ever done anything that could have impacted an investigation in order to protect her life? Or do you mean have I ever endangered an investigation to protect her name?" He asked, staring into the attorney's eyes.

"If your question is the former, then yes, I have." He answered. "While investigating and apprehending criminals is always my first priority, protecting lives always supersedes that priority. Any agent would tell you the same thing; protecting your partner comes before anything. So, yes, I might have ignored my responsibilities if Dr. Brennan's life was in danger. Other than that, no, I've never ignored my responsibilities because of her."

"So," the attorney said once again, "you've never gone out of you way to protect her name or reputation."

"No," Booth answered with as small smile. "I haven't. Dr. Brennan is a consummate professional; she doesn't need me to protect her reputation. In fact," he added, as his smile turned into a grin, "she rarely needs me to protect her at all. She's more than capable of taking care of herself."

"Oh, yes," the attorney returned with a grin of his own. "Why don't we talk about Dr. Brennan's capability to take of herself?" He turned around and picked up a list from the plaintiff's table. "I have here that she's been arrested for shooting an unarmed man, that she's flipped two men, one who happened to be an undercover agent; she was arrested for murder down in New Orleans . . ."

"We proved that she was framed," Booth protested, as the defense attorney jumped to her feet.

"Objection," the attorney called out. "Dr. Brennan is not on the witness stand. Plaintiff's counsel is trying to circumvent her 5th Amendment rights by bringing up incidents from her past when she's not able to respond. Furthermore, Dr. Brennan will not be testifying, her past actions are not admissible at all. Opposing counsel can not impeach her character when she hasn't made it admissible by choosing to take the stand."

"Sustained," the judge said, decisively. "Mr. Brown, you know better. Please, stay away from this line of questioning."

"Yes, your honor," Mr. Brown said, with a small not. "Where were you and Dr. Brennan the night of February 15?" he asked, turning back towards Booth.

"Dr. Brennan and I were working in my office in the Hoover Building," Booth answered.

"What time did you leave?"

"It was close to 11 pm when we left," Booth answered.

"11 at night?" the attorney repeated. "Isn't that a rather late hour to be leaving your office on a Friday night?"

"Not really," Booth shook his head. "Dr. Brennan and I routinely stay late at work."

"So, this was just like any other night?" the plaintiff's attorney asked.

"Yes," Booth nodded. "It had been a pretty normal day followed by an ordinary night," he added. There was no need to add that Brennan had been feeling very amorous that evening . . .

_**Flashback**_

"So, we just have to sign this and we'll be done, right?" Booth asked, as he stretched his arms over his head. His suit jacket and tie had long ago been discarded, the first top two buttons of his white dress shirt were open and the sleeves were folded back over his forearms. The move pulled the material of his shirt tight over his pectorals and biceps and pulled Brennan's eyes towards his chest.

No matter how many times she'd seen him naked, she still got a little tingle when she realized just how 'well-structured' he was. The tingle got stronger whenever she recognized, as she did at that moment, that that 'well-structured' body was all hers. At moments like these all she wanted to do was run her hands all over those muscles and taste that skin. With a grin, she thought 'why not?' He was her boyfriend (a word she never thought would make her heart beat faster); there was nothing wrong with them having a little . . . fun.

Their being in his office, made the thought even more enticing. Whenever she saw him behind his desk, acting all professional and powerful had always gotten her hot and made her fantasize about making him lose control. She glanced around his office to confirm that the blinds were still drawn; they hadn't wanted the bustle of the outer office to distract them from their paperwork and had closed them before they started working.

The noise level from outside had steadily gone down until there was complete silence on the other side of the door. She nonchalantly got up and went to check that there was indeed no one out side. While she was there, she also flipped the lock on the door. She then turned around and walked towards Booth, who was sitting at the table with his back to the door.

"Seeley," she murmured seductively, wrapping her arms around his neck from the back. "Why don't we celebrate the fact that we finished all the paperwork with a little hanky panky?"

"Hanky panky?" Booth repeated, with an amused grin, as he tilted his head to give her lips more access. "Where did you learn that expression?"

"Angela," she said and breathed against his ear, causing him to shudder. "She was asking me the other day whether we've had any office hanky panky."

"And you told her?" he asked, as she nibbled on his earlobe and moved her hands down his chest towards the buttons of his shirt.

"That we hadn't, of course," she answered, as she started to unbutton his shirt.

"But you decided that tonight it would be a good time to rectify that?" he wanted to know, as she spread his shirt wide open and started to kiss her way down his chest.

"Well," she drawled, as she moved around him and nestled into his lap, "can you honestly tell me you've never thought about it?"

"Hmmm," he replied, as she wound her arms around his neck and leaned in for a kiss. "I always pictured us in your office," he added, as they finally came up for air.

"Really?" she asked, drawing back a little. "You thought about us making love in the lab? I thought you found it too sterile and cold?"

"I do," he answered, as he ran his hands down his chest and cupped her breasts in his hands. She moaned and bowed her back, pushing her breasts into his hands. "I guess the idea of getting you hot and bothered and making you lose control in a place where you're always so together and in charge is a real turn on."

"Ah," she exclaimed, as he pinched her nipples. "I guess I can understand that." She fisted her hands, digging her nails into his chest while she enjoyed his touch. When he moved to unbutton her blouse, however, she slid from his grasp and down his body until she was kneeling on the floor between his knees.

"Bones?" he asked, trying to bring her back up. "What are you doing down there? Come back up here."

"Nope," she answered, sending him a naughty grin and looking up at him from under her lashes. "I think I like it right here, thank you," she added, as her nimble fingers unbuckled his belt and then started on the button and zipper of his slacks.

"Bones," he called again, one hand grasping her shoulder as if to try and bring her up while he buried his other hand in her hair. "Come on up; or at least, take this off."

"In a minute," she told him, distractedly. "First, let's get these pants off of you." When she finished unzipping and unbuttoning, she tapped his hips to get him to tilt them up while she grabbed his pants and briefs. Once he lifted his hips, she swiftly brought them down. "Someone's happy to see me," she murmured while she leaned down and softly blew on his hard cock.

"Ah!!" Booth groaned, as his hips involuntarily arched towards her mouth. "Come on, Bones," he insisted around a groan. "At least take off your blouse," he asked once more.

She started to unbutton her blouse even as she opened her lips wide and took him all the way in.

"Shit," he groaned, as he tightened his grip on the chair's arms until his knuckles turned white and his hips bowed once more. The visual of her shrugging out of her blouse and then taking off her bra, only strengthened the onslaught. There was something deeply erotic about the image of Brennan, usually a very independent woman, on her knees before her, naked from the waist up, swallowing him whole.

It was amazing how fast she could get to him. Less than ten minutes ago, he had been completely focused on paperwork and now, he was minutes away from coming down her throat. When her hands joined the fray, one fisting what she couldn't take into her mouth and the other one gently caressing his balls, he lost the fight and came with a roar.

_**End of flashback**_

. . . No, better not think about any of that. Especially as it was getting him all hot and bothered. He shifted on his seat, trying to relieve some pressure and tried to pay attention to the attorney's next question.

"What happened when you finally left?"

"We were in the lobby of the building," Booth answered, "when Mr. Drant came up to us. Apparently, he'd been by the Jeffersonian looking for Dr. Brennan. When he didn't find her there, he decided to try the Hoover building. The security guards at the museum had told him that she sometimes works late at my office."

"Wasn't Mr. Drant's intention to simply talk with Dr. Brennan about the case?" he asked and the defense attorney once more jumped to her feet.

"Objection," she cried out, "councilor is leading the witness."

"Sustained," the judge banged his gavel. "Mr. Brown," the judge turned to the attorney, who raised his hand.

"I'll rephrase the question," he said. "What would you say Mr. Drant's intentions were?"

"I'm not sure," Booth answered with a shrug. "He said he wanted to talk to us about the case but we told him that that wasn't a good idea. We had already given all of the case files to the justice department; it was no longer in our hands. We advised him that any further communications between him and any member of the investigative team should probably be conducted in front of his attorney."

"That was all?" Brown asked. "What happened to make Dr. Brennan assault Mr. Drant?"

"Dr. Brennan did not assault Mr. Drant," Booth answered, firmly. "When we told Mr. Drant that we couldn't help him, he insisted that Dr. Brennan's tests were wrong. That she must have made a mistake," he paused for a moment and then continued, shaking his head. "Dr. Brennan did not appreciate his calling her competence into question."

"And that was when she attacked him?" Brown persisted. The defense attorney was once again going to object but Brennan's hand on her arm and the look in Booth's eye convinced her otherwise.

"Dr. Brennan did not attack him," he reiterated. "It is true that she didn't like his accusations and she did respond. But her response was _verbal_. Dr. Brennan is very eloquent and can make her opinions known without resorting to violence. Drant objected to Dr. Brennan's defense of the process and he began to get more and more agitated until he rushed Dr. Brennan. The injuries Mr. Drant received were a result of Dr. Brennan _defending_ herself against an unprovoked attack by Mr. Drant – not the result of her attacking him."

"Given Dr. Brennan's violent history," Brown began only to be stopped by the defense attorney's call of "Objection" and the judge's call of "Mr. Brown."

"I'll rephrase," he conceded. "Do you honestly expect us to believe that all of my client's injuries were the result of Dr. Brennan defending herself?"

"Yes," Booth answered with a nod. "That's just what I expect you to believe because that is the truth."

"And are we to take your word for it?" Brown asked with something very close to a sneer on his face. "The word of the man who everyone knows is Dr. Brennan's lover?"

That was the question everyone had been dreading but that everyone had known was coming. Both Booth and Brennan had known this was a possibility from the moment they decided to give a romantic relationship a chance. They had known their professional judgment could be called into question because of their personal relationship. But they had agreed that it was worth the risk and both were confident enough in their professional abilities and reputation to not worry over much about the possibility. Still, it was a shock to have it thrown at them like that.

"As I have stated," Booth said, calmly, "my relationship with Dr. Brennan has never, nor will it ever, negatively impacted my duties as an officer of the law. I have never lied under oath and I don't appreciate you insinuating otherwise."

The gleam in Booth's eyes had turned dangerous and the defense attorney once more shot to her feet and addressed the judge. "Your honor, Agent Booth has been an exemplary agent for almost ten years. He has nothing but commendations on his record and one of the highest case-solving records in Bureau history. Plus, he's a veteran who served his country with distinction. To call his word into question without proof to back up the accusation . . ." she trailed off and shook her head but the judge had gotten the point and turned to the plaintiff's attorney.

"Mr. Brown," he began. "Do you have any evidence that would contradict Agent Booth's testimony in this manner? Other than your own speculation?"

"No, your honor," Brown was forced to admit. "I do not; but how can we be sure that he can be honest when it's his girlfriend that's on trial?"

"Unless you have evidence to back up your impeachment of Agent Booth's testimony as a witness," the judge said, "then we'll base the assumption that he's telling the truth on his exemplary record and on the fact that everyone that takes the witness stand is believed to be saying the truth unless proven otherwise."

"Yes, your honor," Brown said with a nod. "We have nothing further at this point."

"Very well," the judge nodded. "You may step down," he told Booth who nodded back and walked down from the witness stand. "Are there any other witness you'd like to call?"

"No, your honor," Brown answered, moving back to his seat, "the plaintiff rests."

"Very well," the judge said again. "Ms. Bejar," he added, turning to the defense attorney. "Are you calling any witness?"

"No, your honor," she answered shaking her head. "The defense now moves for a judgment as a matter of law. The plaintiff has not presented any evidence to prove that Dr. Brennan attacked him first. He hasn't even presented any evidence to call into doubt the chain of events. Agent Booth's testimony, the recording of that night and the guard's testimony – they are all consistent with Dr. Brennan's version of events. The plaintiff has not presented any evidence to contradict that."

"Mr. Brown," the judge said, turning back to the plaintiff's table, "do you have any other evidence to substantiate your version of events?"

After a whispered discussion between the plaintiff and his attorney, the attorney turned to face the judge and answered, "No, your honor. We do not."

"Then," the judge said, turning to face the whole court room, "I grant defendant's motion for a judgment as a matter of law. I find in favor of the defendant. Plaintiff to pay all of the court's cost. Court is adjourned." He banged his gavel once more before he pushed back from the bench and walked out of the courtroom.

While Drant stalked out of the courtroom, Brennan thanked her attorney. "Thank you," she said, sincerely as they shook hands.

"My pleasure," the lovely attorney replied. "I'd be happy to help you anytime; though, you might want to cut back on the violence."

"I was defending myself!" Brennan argued, annoyed that she still had to explain herself.

"I know," the attorney answered. "And you have all the right in the word to defend yourself; but maybe, it would be best if you tried to avoid situations where defending yourself is needed." At Brennan's indignant face, she put up a hand and continued, "I know, it's not fair but just try and avoid any situations like this in the near future – at least. You don't want to have to be here again, do you?"

"No," Brennan grudgingly admitted.

"Besides," the attorney added with a flirtatious smile towards Booth, who walked up to them. "You have a big, gorgeous hunk of an FBI agent at your disposal. Let him take care of the crazies. He has a badge," she said with a wink, "that covers a multitude of sins!"

"Thanks, Lola," Booth said with a crooked smile. "I knew I had to be good for something!" Lola Bejar laughed and, with a final goodbye, walked out. Angela rushed up and hugged Brennan.

"Sweetie," she said, as she stepped back, "I am sooo glad this is finally over! It was such a bogus case. I swear, these frivolous cases should never get this far!"

"I know, Angela," Brennan said, as she stepped closer to Booth, who put an arm around her waist. "I know, but it's over now so let's move on, okay?"

"Sure thing," Angela said with a smile. "Let's get out of here."

"We'll meet you outside, Angela," Booth told her and she just nodded before turning and walking out.

"You ok, Bones?" he asked, as he turned to look down at her.

"Yes," she answered with a shrug.

"You don't sound very ok," he argued.

"No," she said, shaking her head, "I am. I just . . . I knew they were going use something like that sooner or later. But I just don't like it."

"I know," he agreed, "and I don't either. But at least it's done now; we won't have to wait for it anymore."

"I guess," she said, as she laid her head against his chest.

"Hey," he said, bringing her head up with a finger under her chin, "cheer up. You won! And like you told, Angela, let's just leave this behind and go celebrate, okay?"

"I didn't say anything about going to celebrate," she protested.

"I know," he agreed, as they started to walk out of the courtroom. "I just added that because I think it's a good idea, don't you?" He pushed open the courtroom doors and as Brennan argued that it would be better if they went back to work since the darn trial had already taken up too much of her time, they walked out of the courtroom together.


	4. Dancing Point

**Dancing Point**

**Disclaimer: **No, they're not mine.

**A/N: **Well, here's the next one shot. I know, I know, it's been a long, long time since I've updated any of my fics. I'm really very sorry but really life decided to rear up and demand attention. I tried putting it off but I've discovered that it doesnt like being ignored and that it is vindictive so that when you finally do pay attention to it, it makes everything three times as hard as if you'd have paid attention in the first place. Oh, well, what can you do? That's finally done with. Unfortunately, I think musie was a bit scared by it cause she just went poof for the longest time; even when real life was calm again, I just couldn't seem to write. Hopefully, that's all over with and the next chapters will come out fast. For those that are also reading Aliens, I hope to have the next chapter of that one next week. I've started to work on it, so with any luck it wont be long now.

**A/N2:** As Kerrie reminded me, this fic spans quite a bit of time and it can be difficult to keep all of these one shots straight - timeline wise. So, I'm adding a timeline; I meant to do it before but somehow I always forgot. So, here's the timeline:

Starting Point: started a couple of weeks after Santa in the Slush. Sees them through their first Valentine's Day and ends with them going to the cabin in mid-June.

Points in Between: Touch Point (aks Shelter, Sanctuary and Support) is the first of the one shots and takes place in Valentine's Day a year and two months after they first got together and eight months after the end of Starting Point.

Compass Point: no specific date but during the winter, a few weeks after Touch Point.

Point of Order: again no specific date but towards the beginning spring, a few weeks after Compass Point.

Dancing Point: a few weeks after Point of Order, spans six weeks.

Breaking Point: Four years after they start dating. The fic that started it all and there are going to be more one shots between Dancing Point and the beginning of BP, exploring those four years and maybe getting a glimpse of how they get where they get.

Ok, I think that's it. Let me know if there are any more questions about the timeline. Hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think.

--

"Dinner was delicious, Lola," Brennan said, as she and the attorney carried the plates into the kitchen. "As always," she added, with a grin.

"Thank you," Lola smiled. "It's a favorite dish of mine."

"I can understand why," Brennan agreed and leaned against a counter, as Lola started to load the dishwasher. "It's very tasty. Is it hard to make?"

"Not really," Lola shook her head. "Then again, I rarely find any recipe that hard. I may not like to cook but, I know the basics and find it relatively easy to follow directions. After all, it's not rocket science, now is it?"

"No," Brennan replied. "It's not. But it is something of an art, isn't it?"

"I guess," Lola shrugged, "though I rarely take any creative license when cooking. I feel more comfortable following directions."

"Yes, you would," Brennan commented, making Lola turned her head sharply.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing bad," Brennan chuckled, "just that you're a lawyer and as such, it makes sense that you're a linear thinker. Actually," she added with a light frown, "I'm sure Booth would say the same about me."

As she turned back to the dishes, Lola asked, "Because you're a scientist? You're also a writer; you must have a creative side to you."

"I suppose," Brennan shrugged. "And I do try different things in the kitchen. Booth seems to appreciate my efforts."

"I'm sure he does," Lola agreed. "He seems to appreciate most everything about you," she added with a smirk.

"You think?" Brennan asked, thoughtfully.

"Of course," Lola answered, using her hip to close the dishwasher. She turned to wipe down the counters, looked over her shoulder, asked, "Don't you?"

"Maybe," Brennan granted. "Doesn't stop him from arguing with me all the time," Brennan muttered as she raised her wine glass for a sip.

"Of course not," Lola said, laughing. "That wouldn't be Booth, would it?" she asked, putting down the sponge she used to wipe the counters before washing her hands. "Besides," she added as she turned off the water and turned around drying her hands, "I have a feeling that you wouldn't respect him half as much if he didn't challenge you."

"Maybe," Brennan said again, this time with a small smile as sipped her wine again.

"Uh, huh," Lola smirked, picking up her wine glass from where she'd put it down. "Well," she sighed after savoring the drink, "the dishes are done and the food is put away; should we go out and join the guys?"

"Yes, let's go," Brennan agreed. "You know, this whole, women in the kitchen and men in the living room, phenomenon is an anthropological ritual I never thought I'd participate in. I'm not sure I like it," she added in a pensive tone that had Lola grinning. "In fact," Brennan concluded, as they walked out of the kitchen, "I'm sure I don't like it. Next time we have you guys over for dinner, it'll be Booth's turn to clean up."

"I'd love to see that," Lola replied with a chuckle.

"Don't worry, you will," Brennan said with a nod.

"Oh, no, you don't," Lola said, as they walked into the living room and she saw that the guys had the game on. "We are not spending the rest of the evening watching a baseball game," she stopped in front of the TV and faced the guys with her hands on her hips.

"Oh, come on, Lola," Mike, Lola's husband, said. "It's the last game before the playoffs! It's important."

"They're all important," Lola replied, not moving or changing the look on her face. "If it's so important, record it," she suggested. "But we're not going to watch it right now; neither Temperance nor I want to watch it and she's our guest.

"And don't," she added, holding her hand up to stop him when he opened his mouth, "tell me that you and Booth want to watch it and that Temperance and I can go somewhere else. This is not the 19th century, where the women go to one side of the drawing room to chat and the men stay in another to drink and smoke. We're all going to have a nice evening – together."

Brennan had to grin at how the other woman took command of the room and shot down any argument before it was even made. She really was a great attorney and Brennan was glad that Booth had suggested her when the whole mess with Drant had come up. Since then, she had become a good friend and the four of them had dinner at least twice a month. They had even had a few 'girls day out' with Angela; the two of them got along famously as they shared the same earthy humor.

"I guess we're not watching the game," Booth said with a smile as he turned to look at Mike.

"Nope," Mike shook his head with a rueful smile. "I guess we're spending the rest of the night talking."

"You don't have to make that sound like such a chore," Lola reprimanded him, as she walked towards the stereo to put on some music, while Mike turned off the TV. "Or talking is all you'll be doing for the next few days."

"A chore?" Mike asked, wide eyed and sounding completely innocent. "I didn't mean for it to sound like that. Talking to you could never be a chore."

Booth coughed to hide his chuckle and put his arm around Brennan's shoulder when she sat down next to him. She cuddled into his side as the music started to come from the speakers.

"You had to put in this CD, didn't you?" Mike asked, smiling at Lola as she perched on the arm of his chair. He placed his arm around her waist and smirked up at her, "Are you trying to torture me?"

"Of course not," she purred, playing with his hair. "You know this is my favorite CD."

Booth tilted his head a bit, and closely listened to the music. It was in Spanish and he could only make out a few words here and there. It had a tropical beat and he thought it could be a salsa but, since that was the only tropical rhythm he remembered, he could be wrong.

"Is that merenge?" Brennan asked, looking at Lola with a quizzical frown.

"Yes," Lola answered, sounding somewhat surprised, "it is. How did you know? A lot of Hispanics can't even tell the difference between the genres."

"I've spent some time in Latin America," Brennan shrugged. "A couple of guides at different times were nice enough to teach me the difference."

"Is there any subject you don't know something about?" Booth asked, and leaned away a few inches to look down at her with a faux frown.

"Can't think of any," Brennan answered, with a careless shrug and bit back a smile. More than five years working with him, and being in a romantic relationship with him for almost two of those years, had taught Brennan how to tease and play. Booth chuckled in appreciation and pulled her close again.

"Oh, I love this song," Lola murmured, swaying her foot in time with the music.

"Of course you do," Mike said in a 'duh' tone of voice. "It's a CD of some of your favorite songs." Lola slapped his head before she leaned in and kissed it with a smile.

"That is true," Lola admitted, and then looked at Booth and Brennan. "But ask me who made me that CD?" She invited with a smug smile.

"You?" Booth asked Mike, with a grin.

"Yeah," Mike answered, as he brought his beer up for a drink.

"It's a compilation of the songs they played at our dance class," Lola explained, smiling in remembrance. "He gave it too me when the class ended. It was very sweet."

"It sounds like it," Booth agreed, as he hid a wicked grin and knew that he was going to be teasing the other man for some time to come.

"You've taken dance lessons?" Brennan asked, looking very interested.

"Sure," Lola answered. "That's how we met."

"I thought you had met through a common friend," Brennan said, confused.

"Well, technically, we did," Lola said, only to confuse the other couple more. "We met at Julie's party, but we were only introduced there. We barely said more than 'hi' that night."

"That's 'cause someone had gone with her boyfriend to that party," Mike grumbled, as he sipped his beer.

"He was a friend and not a boyfriend," Lola told him, emphatically. "And you know it. Anyway," she added, and turned back to Booth and Brennan, "a couple of weeks later we saw each other again when the dance class began. Since we didn't know anyone else there, it just made sense to pair up. The rest, as they say, is history."

"But why," Brennan tilted her head and wore a small frown, "did you take tropical dance classes instead of, say, swing or tap? I mean, didn't you already know how to dance that kind of music?"

"Not really," Lola shrugged. "I came to the States before I was a teenager. I hadn't really learned to dance by then. And once we lived here, well, I could follow if someone knew what he was doing but I didn't really know how to dance. And," she added after another a sip of her wine, "it was a good way to lose weight."

"Like you ever needed to lose weight," Booth, who had known Lola for years, scoffed. "You've always looked darn good."

"Why, thank you, dahhling," Lola said, in her best Marilyn Monroe imitation, blowing Booth a kiss.

It was a measure of how close the two couples had become, that neither Brennan nor Mike felt threatened by the interchange. Brennan had learned early on in the relationship, just as Mike knew, that Lola was a friendly flirt. She was a very out-going, sociable and demonstrative person, who liked to flirt with her friends. Since she wasn't obnoxious or blatant about it and it was obvious she was head over heels in love with her husband, it wasn't a problem for Brennan.

"He's right," Mike agreed with Booth. "You've always been hot, querida."

"Ah, you have to say that 'cause you love me," Lola argued but she was smiling as she leaned in to give him a sweet kiss. While Mike wasn't fluent in Spanish, he had taken some classes in college and had been practicing since they got together. She was especially touched whenever he used Spanish endearments.

Despite being touched by the tender moment between the spouses, Brennan frowned as she considered Lola's body and her statement about losing weight. While Lola was not as thin as the models who supposedly represented the ideal body type, she had the curves and full bodied figured that turned men's heads wherever she went. Historically, women of Lola's body type were considered the epitome of beauty. It was a shame that the modern ideal of beauty made smart, beautiful, healthy women doubt their attractiveness, and Brennan being Brennan said as much.

"You know," Brennan began, in what Booth instantly recognized as her lecture voice, "throughout history, women have been the nurturing sex; they have been seen as the embodiment of the Earth's renewal power, of its ability to create and sustain life. They have been the symbols of fertility, and the symbols of harvests and abundance.

"Without fail, culture after culture has revered the female form and its reproduction power. As such, a beautiful woman was one that reflected that power - a full figured woman able to carry and nurture her young was the form coveted by men. It wasn't until last century that the ideal of beauty began to change. It wasn't until the middle of last century, when women were taught that to be beautiful you had to be thin. And in the pursuit of this new model of perfection, women were losing that which made them look like women. Now, we think that to be beautiful, we have to look like teenage boys."

Booth and Mike exchanged glances before they sipped their beers while Lola nodded and said, "You're right. The notion of beauty that society sponsors has always seemed to me to be somewhat askew. I've never had any aspiration to look like a boy and I don't understand why any woman would – much less starve themselves to achieve that. God gave us curves for a reason." She shrugged and added with a smile, "besides I was never one to sacrifice what I like for the sake of what society wants. And I really like food."

"Yes, you do," Mike agreed with a grin. "And I, for one, am grateful. I love your curves."

"You better," Lola said on a laugh, "cause you'll be living with them for the rest of your life." She leaned in forward to hug him but he pulled her down onto his lap and she threw her arms around his shoulders, still laughing.

Booth's chuckle at the other couple's antics turned into a groan when he saw Brennan had opened her mouth to continue with her lecture.

"Come on, Bones," he groaned, "this is a dinner party; let's not ruin it with an anthropological lecture, please?"

"What?" Brennan asked, and frowned slightly. "I'm just commenting on how men's taste seemed to have changed over the years. They've gone from liking curves to liking lines."

"Hey, there," Booth protested. "I like curves just fine," he said, leering at her. "Besides," he added, evading her elbow, "you've forgotten the biggest social change of the last century," he paused to take a sip of his beer, "the one that was probably at the root of that change.

"Did I?" Brennan asked, as she raised her eyebrows. "And, pray tell, what might that change be?" she challenged, more than secure in her knowledge of history and amused at his attempt to use it against her.

"Why," Booth answered simply, extending his legs and shifting on the couch, "the changing role of women, of course. Don't you find it interesting that the period during which women rose to political and social power is the same time period during which this change in what is considered beautiful occurred? I know I do," he finished, with a slight nod.

"You know," Mike commented with a grin, "he has a point."

"Are you saying that women," Brennan started to ask in a disbelieving tone, "are the ones responsible for the changes in the definition of beautiful?"

"I'm not saying anything," Booth denied, with a shake of his head. "I'm just commenting that it is an interesting coincidence."

"Coincidence!" Brennan repeated, but before they could really get started, Lola laughed and called a halt to the argument.

"Children, children," she said, between giggles, "let's remember to play nice together, shall we?" Before they could answer, she turned towards the stereo with a gasp and said, "I love this song!!"

"I think we've already established that you love all the songs on this CD," Mike said with a slight roll of his eyes, which earned him a smack on the arm from his wife.

"Come on," she said, and pulled him up, "let's dance."

Mike grumbled a bit but got up and danced with his wife. Brennan observed the other couple for a while before she turned to Booth with a sly smile.

"What?" he asked wearily when she just smiled wider, he shook his head. "Oh, no, Bones, I don't know how to dance to this music."

"Oh, there's nothing to it," she assured him as she got up and followed Lola's example, she then turned to pull Booth up, "Come on, it's easy; just follow my lead."

With a moan, Booth allowed himself to be pulled up and for the next couple of songs they stumbled along, laughed and sneaked looks at the other couple. But while Lola and Mike gracefully slid from step, to turn, to twist, Booth and Brennan tripped and fumbled from step, to turn, to turn, to twist. Not only had it been too long since Brennan had danced merenge for her to comfortably lead Booth but Booth was more accustomed to leading than following. That struggle to lead created some interesting and innovative steps.

After a few of the more . . . creative steps, Lola and Mike took pity on them and they switched partners. Following Mike's confident lead, Brennan was soon gliding to the basic and then not so basic steps. For his part, Booth was able to follow Lola's easy going lead. He was, after all, a pretty coordinated guy and it wasn't long before he was dipping and twirling the laughing attorney. 

"You're pretty good for a beginner," Lola commented, after one of the most energetic twists. Booth might not be as smooth as Mike, but the potential was there. "You'd be great with a few classes."

"I don't think so," Booth began to say but Brennan, who was always aware of what was happening with Booth, interrupted him.

"Classes?" she repeated, turning her head to look at them. "That's sounds like a great idea; don't you think so, Booth?"

"Nope," Booth said, then glared at Lola before he turned to look at Brennan, "not really."

"Come on," Brennan said, really getting into the idea. "It could be fun."

"On the other hand," Booth argued, though he knew that he was most likely fighting a losing battle, "it could be dance lessons."

She looked confused and for a minute Booth thought she was going to point out that it would definitely be dance lessons but her face soon cleared up. "There's a dance studio not far from my house," she said, as she ignored Booth's pronounced lack of enthusiasm. "I'll call them tomorrow and ask about lessons."

"Bones," Booth whined even as he knew there would probably be no talking her out of it now.

Six weeks later . . . 

"What do you want to watch tonight?" Booth asked Brennan as they walked from the dinning room to the living room. He sat down and picked up the remote control, "there's a game on but I set it to record, so if you want to watch anything else . . . ?" he trailed off as he turned to look at her, expecting her to come and sit next to him. But she walked right by him and went to the stereo. "What are you doing?" he asked, curious as he sat forward.

"I found this song online while I was doing some googling," Brennan answered as she put in a CD. "I thought it'd be a good one to practice before class tomorrow."

"Come on, Bones," Booth groaned as he flopped back to the sofa, "isn't it enough that we go to dance class three times a week? Do we have to dance at home on our nights off?"

"Yes," she answered firmly, "you know the teacher said it was a good idea to practice."

"Yeah, but it was only a suggestion," he pointed out. "It's not like she actually gave us homework," he said for the umpteenth time but Brennan being Brennan could not take a class and not ace it. Never mind the fact that dance classes were not graded, she just had to be the best.

"Come on, Seeley," she said in a throaty voice that she knew would get her almost anything she wanted and he knew she knew it and still, he couldn't help but give in. So when she said, "dance with me," and pulled him to his feet, he followed her.

"Ok," Booth said as the first notes and words of the song started, "you're going to have to translate."

"Sure," Brennan nodded as they started to dance. When the song started, she softly translated it while she gazed into his eyes,

(Cuando tu no estas, cuando tu no estas)/ when you're not here, when you're not here

No necesito un grado asociado/ I don't need an associate's degree  
para saber que a tu lado, encontre felicidad./ To know that at your side, I found happiness.

He twirled her for the first time before pulling her back towards him where, keeping her eyes on his, she continued to translate the song,

No necesito un buffet de abogados/ I don't need a law firm,  
cuando me siento atrapada, si tu me sabes liberar./ When I feel trapped, since you know how to free me.

She wrinkled her nose as she translated the next stanza, though she knew he'd like it,

No necesito entrar en una iglesia/ I don't need to go into a church  
ni entender de religion, para saber q hay demonios/ Nor to understand religion, to know that there are demons,  
que quieren matar este amor/ that want to kill this love.

He grinned as he led her through the dance steps, knowing how much the sentiment went against her nature.

No necesito un babalao ni un santero/ I don't need a shaman or a santero,  
ni contemplar en una bola de cristal/ nor to look into a crystal ball

si mi futuro yo lo veo en tu mirada/ when I see my future in your eyes  
y si no estas se que no puedo continuar./ And if you're not here, I know that I can't continue

Booth twirled her, spun her from his side and then pulled her back towards him. He then put his arms around her waist and held her close for a few seconds, stared into her eyes until the stanza ended, then pushed her out into another twirl. She went laughing and still kept up the translation,

Por que la vida es dura y la noche es obscura/Because life is hard and the night is dark  
y el mundo se enfria, cuando tu no estas./ And the world gets cold when you're not here.  
Es que la vida es dura y la noche es obscura/It's that life is hard and the night is dark,  
y el mundo se enfria , cuando tu no estas./ And the world gets cold when you're not here.

Cuando tu no estas (cuando tu no estas), When you're not here (when you're not here)  
yo no se vivir (cuando tu no estas)/ I don't know how to live (when you're not here)

yo me vuelvo loca, (cuando tu no estas)/ I go insane (when you're not here)  
se que yo me muero (cuando tu no estas)./ I know that I can die (when you're not here).

(cuando tu no estas se que no puedo existir/ when you're not here, I know I can't exist  
solo tu amor es lo q me hace vivir./ only your love is what makes me live.  
cuando me besas me tengo que resistir/ when you kiss me, I have to resist  
sobre tu cuerpo hasta el cielo puedo subir./ on your body, until the sky I can fly  
muero, cuando tu y yo estamos separados/ I die, when you and I are separated  
vivo, solo si tu estas a mi lado/ I live, only when you're at my side  
quiero, en tus brazos estar atrapado/ I want to be trapped in your arms  
siento, que el cielo tu amor me ha regalado). I feel that heaven your love has given me.)

No necesito encontrar tesoros/ I don't need to find treasure  
ni dinero acumular./ or to accumulate money  
si a tu lado hay riquezas y tengo seguridad./ when there are richness at your side and there I find security.

Ya no me importa que el mundo comente/ I no longer care if the world says  
que yo estoy loca de pasion/ that I am passion crazy  
si es que no entiende lo que siento, nunca ha tenido un amor./ if they don't understand what I feel, they've never been in love.

No necesito un babalao ni un santero/ I don't need a shaman or a santero,  
ni contemplar en una bola de cristal/ nor to look into a crystal ball

si mi futuro yo lo veo en tu mirada/ when I see my future in your eyes  
y si no estas se que no puedo continuar./ And if you're not here, I know that I can't continue 

Por que la vida es dura y la noche es obscura/Because life is hard and the night is dark  
y el mundo se enfria, cuando tu no estas./ And the world gets cold when you're not here.  
Es que la vida es dura y la noche es obscura/It's that life is hard and the night is dark,  
y el mundo se enfria , cuando tu no estas./ And the world gets cold when you're not here.

Cuando tu no estas (cuando tu no estas)/ When you're not here (when you're not here)  
yo no se vivir (cuando tu no estas)/ I don't know how to live (when you're not here)  
yo me vuelvo loca, (cuando tu no estas)/ I go insane (when you're not here)  
se que yo me muero. (I know I die).

The six weeks of lessons had paid off as they danced through the song without any difficulty and with only a few mishaps. They twirled, spun and glided almost as smoothly as Mike and Lola had done six weeks before.

As the song neared its end, Booth spun Brennan one last time before he pulled her towards him and with his hands on her back, gave her a quick dip. She gave a startled yelp before she laughed and threw her arms around his neck as he pulled her back up.

"That wasn't so bad now, was it?" Brennan asked as the song ended and they stood quietly in the living room, still in each other's arms.

"No," Booth answered as he leaned forward and started to kiss her neck. "It was actually fun," he murmured as he kissed her way to her mouth. "But you know what dance would be even more fun?" He asked with his mouth a breath away from hers.

"Ummm," Brennan said, while she threaded her fingers through his hair. "And what dance might that be?"

"Well," Booth whispered before he closed the gap and kissed her before continuing, "it's a very intimate dance – very intricate too."

"Really?" Brennan asked when they came up for air. "Do you think we've got enough experience to try such a complicated dance?"

"Oh, I think we've had more than enough experience," Booth answered with a wink. "But why don't we go into the bedroom and see, huh?" he asked before he picked her up and carried her off.

**A/N3: **The song is called 'Cuando Tu No Estas' by Olga Tanon. I don't usually like tropical songs and I'm a Hispanic who can rarely tell a salsa from a merenge but I really like her songs and the lyrics for this song just seemed to fit Brennan - leaving the references to religion aside. Plus, I also thought it be interesting to write a songfic based on a song that was not a ballad, and that it'd be fun to see them dance to it. Hope you like it and you should check out the song if you have the chance, it has a great beat.


	5. Freezing Point

**Freezing Point**

**Disclaimer: **They're still not mine, more's the pity.

**A/N: **Well, here's the next installment. One of the joys of writing a series of one shots within an established series, it's that I can experiment with different styles. That's my way of saying that this fic is . . . well, it's a departure from me and I don't want to spoil it so I'll write my usually long a/n and timetable at the end. For now read and enjoy and remember that I always fix what I break and that is part of the Points universe, that should get you through it. ;)

It was a beautiful spring day. The sun was shining, a nice breeze was blowing, the birds were chirping, the flowers were blooming. It wasn't too hot and it wasn't too cold. It was a picture perfect spring day and if she'd been anywhere else than where she was, she'd take a moment to enjoy nature at its best; if she'd been doing anything else other than what she was doing, she'd take a deep breath and not wish she was back at the lab.

This was the last place she'd wanted to be, and this was the last thing she'd wanted to be doing. But they had all shown up, insisting she needed to come with them. She had argued that she didn't and shouldn't she be the expert on what she needed or not? Logically, she should have been. And she would have been able to hold out against all of their psychological, logical arguments but she had not been able to hold out against the plea in Angela's eyes.

She hadn't been able to look into the artist's eyes and, seeing in them everything she was feeling but couldn't express, denied her plea. She hadn't been able to say no, had instead given in and come to the one place she'd swore she wouldn't come. Only to find out, much to her surprise, that as much as Angela had needed her there, had needed her shoulder and strength to get through it, she had needed to be there with Angela. She had needed Angela to cry and to grieve, to give vent to all those feelings she knew were bottled deep down but hadn't been able to feel.

She had been encased in a numbing wall of ice for the last two weeks and hadn't been able to feel anything; the wall was so strong, she'd barely even felt the need to sleep or eat. It seemed as if life had gone on around her but she was no longer a participant; she was now a spectator that viewed everything around her through an ice curtain that distanced her from reality so that she wasn't affected by it.

She knew the exact moment the ice wall had come down. Two weeks ago, she had actually felt the icy numbness descend as Booth had been wheeled away from her. The further they took him, the thicker the ice wall became. It had come as a relief, the numbing of all the confusing, agonizing feelings she'd had since she saw him fall down. By the time she'd reached the hospital, the curtain was thick enough that she'd been able to walk into the emergency room as if she was walking into the lab.

She'd looked around and had seen Angela sobbing in Hodgins' arms, while he tried to calm her down, his own voice breaking; Cam had been talking to the nurses, impatiently wiping away stray tears while Zack had bombarded Sweets with useless facts in an effort to deal with the inconceivable thought that Booth had been shot. Sweets, for his part, had been on the phone, notifying the FBI and, for some reason, Caroline.

Brennan had seen and heard all of it but she had been so far behind the wall of ice that it had seemed as if it all was happening to someone else. She had been so removed from it that she had barely reacted when Angela reached out to hug her. After a few moments, she had pulled back from the artist only to notice that her hands, arms and clothes were stained with Booth's blood. With a murmur, she had excused herself and gone to the bathroom to try and clean herself up.

When she'd came out, the scene that had greeted her was much quieter; Angela had still been in Hodgins' arms but both were silent, Cam had been sitting quietly next to Angela, Zack had finally stopped talking and had been standing with his eyes closed, off to one side, while Sweets had talked softly with a newly arrived Caroline.

As unobtrusively as possible, Brennan had made her way towards a chair away from the others. She'd sat down and tilted her head back and, breathing deeply, she'd prepared to wait until the doctors came out with news. She'd closed her eyes and surrounded herself with the cool calm she'd always had. The icy reserve she'd exuded kept anyone from approaching her and allowed her to sink even further behind the numbing ice wall.

As the time had passed and the silence had lingered, she'd been unable to keep to her mind from going over those few moments again and again; against her will, she'd kept replaying the whole thing in her mind's eye: her singing along to Cindy Lauper's "Girls Just Want to Have Fun"; Booth grinning widely and goofily and bobbing his head along with the music; him jumping up and turning with his gun in hand, all in one motion; him jolting backwards as the bullet slammed into him and then slowly falling down, even as she jumped down from the stage and rushed to his side; seeing his dilated eyes and the blood rushing out before noticing the gun still aimed at her and, without thinking, picking up his gun to shoot at the woman holding that gun; letting the gun fall without bothering to check the accuracy of the shot and turning back to Booth to make sure he'd be fine.

And the more the events replayed in her mind, the more the ice wall encasing her faltered. Until it had seemed inevitable that it'd fall and she had once again started to feel the anguish of knowing Booth was fighting for his life somewhere in the hospital. Just as the wall had cracked and was about to collapse, the doctor had come out.

Brennan had heard the door when it swished open and had looked up and had, for one brief second, believed that the person coming through the door would be Booth. She had believed, in that one brief moment, that it was safe to let the ice wall crumble and to fall apart because Booth would be there to hold her together. But, just as she'd started to let go, she'd realized that the person walking through the door was not Booth but the doctor.

One look into his eyes had been enough to let her know what had happened and the thought of letting go and falling apart was no longer a conceivable one. She'd known in that moment that if she allowed herself to fall apart, she'd never be able to piece herself back together. The person that had held her together the few times she'd let go was no longer there and she did not have the strength to do it on her own. As strong as she was, she'd known that if she let herself feel what not having him in her life meant, she wouldn't have been able to go on. And her giving up was the last thing Booth would have wanted.

Knowing all that, she'd reinforced the ice wall she'd been about to tear down so that it ended up being twice as thick as it had been when she'd walked into the emergency room. And when the doctor walked towards them with heavy footsteps and veiled eyes, she'd been able to stand and listen to him. She'd even been able to ask a couple questions before turning around and calmly walking out.

She'd never known what the others had thought of her reaction, frankly she'd never cared, but no one had followed and for that she was grateful. She'd made it to her apartment without any fuss, had taken a shower and had gone to bed – all without thinking. Just as she had jumped out of bed almost as soon as she'd gotten in and had changed the sheets that had smelled of him without once thinking about what she doing and more importantly, why.

She'd slept and in the morning she'd found tear tracks on her cheeks and the pillow case damp, she'd hadn't stopped to think about why that was. And she had continued to ignore the tear tracks and the damp pillow cases every morning after. And when a swollen and red eyed Angela had arrived just as she'd gotten out of the shower, Brennan had allowed the hugs but had resisted any and all attempts at talking about her feelings, insisting only that she was fine.

Angela hadn't believed her at first; she had, in fact, been dumbfounded at Brennan's emotionless reaction until she had looked deep in Brennan's eyes. There she must have seen the devastation Brennan couldn't allow herself to feel because she'd just nodded wisely and after one final hug had asked if there was anything she could to help. Brennan had shaken her head and gone to finish getting ready.

When she'd gotten to the lab, she'd ignored any offer of condolences and had thrown herself into her work. Since she wouldn't be working with the FBI anymore because there was no way she'd work with any other agent, she had gone back to her first love – identifying long dead remains. There she had remained for the rest of the day. Since there had been no one to come by and coax her away for lunch or to call her in the afternoon to remind her to leave work early, she had gone without lunch and hadn't left until after 10 pm.

Every day for the next two weeks had followed the same pattern: get up, go to work, go back home and go to bed. It had all been done with a minimum of thinking; at least, the personal side of things had been done with a minimum of thinking, the professional side had been accomplished as expertly as always. And if her friends had looked at her with pity and had wondered how long she'd last, she hadn't noticed. She'd talked with Angela, she was sure she had but she couldn't remember what any of those talks might have been about.

She had completely submerged herself in her work; just as she had done before Booth came into her life. No, that wasn't true. Before Booth, she'd been known to smile, to talk about things other than work, she'd even gone out with Angela a time or two. Before Booth, she'd enjoyed her life; with Booth, she'd enjoyed living her life; after Booth, she'd only lived.

Now, two weeks after seeing him get shot, two weeks after her feelings had been numbed with ice, two weeks since her life had gone from full to empty, there she was: at his funeral. The one place she'd never though she'd be; the one place she'd repeatedly said she wouldn't go to because she didn't see the purpose. Booth was gone and seeing his body interred wouldn't make that reality easier to bear or provide any closure. The only thing she could do was go on with her life. But Angela had made an impossible to resist plea and there she was.

But while Angela needed to sob and grieve to get through the funeral and even though Brennan needed Angela to mourn for both of them, the only way Brennan would get through it was by re-enforcing the ice wall and making sure her feelings were completely numb. She wouldn't be able to stand there and listen to the ceremony if she had to actually assimilate what the ceremony meant. So, she retreated completely behind the ice wall and observed the proceedings through an ice curtain, which distorted the events enough that she was able to put the needed distance between herself and them.

On some level, she was aware of Caroline talking; she was even aware that Caroline was talking of Booth but her conscious mind was so removed from it all that she heard the words as background static. Before she knew it, the ceremony was over and the guests were one by one walking to the casket to pay their final respects.

She hadn't planned on it, but almost against her will, her feet followed after Angela when the artist started going forward. As much as her feet seemed to have a mind of their own, each footstep seemed to get harder and harder to make, as if she were trying to walk through knee deep mud. A part of her wanted to turn back but the biggest part of her couldn't and she kept inexorably walking forward.

After Angela said her final goodbyes, she walked up to the casket – the hardest two steps she'd ever taken. Before looking into it, she took a deep breath and gathered more courage than she'd thought she had. She lost that breath when she finally looked in and saw him laying there. He looked as if he was sleeping and for one crazy moment, she thought it had all been one horrible accident and he was just resting.

Her hand was shaking as it moved to touch his face without her consent, just as her feet had done before. The moments before she made contact seem endless and during them she remembered what her life had been like since she'd met Booth: the first moment they saw each other, when neither one had trusted or even liked the other; the slow build up of trust – from when he had defended her before Cullen during their first case as partners to the time he had risked his career by taking her mother's earring from a crime scene in New Orleans; the times they had defied the odds to save each other – him leaving the hospital still injured to save her from Kenton, pulling her out of the quarry where the gravedigger had buried her and Hodgins, her joining forces with her father to rescue him from Kennedy; all the times the'd been there for each other – him dropping everything to fly to New Mexico to go Federal on Sheriff's Dawes' ass to help Angela, showing his vulnerability by sharing with her his last mission as a ranger, hugging her when the discovery of her mother's remains made her doubt who she was, giving her Jasper the pig to show he knew what she was going through the first time she took a life, telling her there was more than one kind of family when her father and brother had once again left her behind, being there when Sully sailed away, him and Parker bringing a Christmas tree to the jail where she was spending Christmas Eve with her family; all those moments where the heat between them was almost impossible to deny – holding each other's eyes in the shooting range during their first case as they argued the role each would play in their partnership, hearing him explain why making love was as close to a miracle as people could get, the first time they kissed under the mistletoe and in front of Caroline, their first real kiss after declaring their feelings for each other, the first time they made love, and countless other moments, blackmailing him into letting her drive the convertible when they were in LA, him popping up the first Christmas they spent together and crying 'Bones, it's after midnight, hum, Christmas Eve day, both and Eve and a day it's a Christmas miracle', being excited about the sea chimps they were experimenting with or with the idea of finding a pirate's buried treasure, carrying her on his back when she couldn't bring herself to walk among a floor covered with snakes, his shrieking when unexpectedly confronted with a clown, going to the cabin with him and Parker, visiting Disney World and seeing him enjoy it as much as Parker did, going to sleep and waking up next to him . . .

The million and one scenes that make up a life flashed through her mind in the never-ending seconds that it took her hand to reach his face. When she finally touched him, his skin was so cold that a gasp escaped her lips. She had been living in a world of ice since she saw him leave in an ambulance but the shock of seeing him so still, so devoid of the vitally, warmth and humor that was Booth, of seeing him so . . . lifeless and of feeling the coldness of his skin finally accomplished what hearing the news of his death had not – the wall of ice numbing her feelings splintered and crumbled. It left behind a sea of agony as she tried to comprehend the enormity of her loss.

The thought of what her life would be like without him in it sent her to her knees as she tried to breathe despite the crushing weight on her chest. The tears she hadn't been able to shed came gushing out in a torrent of grief. She was sobbing so hard, she couldn't draw in a full breath. Dimly, she heard Angela's urgings to calm down but she couldn't; she couldn't think beyond the agony she was feeling. She kept calling Booth's name in anguish even as she was wheezing for air. The lack of oxygen had her hyperventilating and dark spots were dancing in front of her eyes. She couldn't breath and the world started to fade . . . . . .

With a breathless gasp, Brennan was jolted awake. Her eyes flew open and her hand went to her throat as she tried to draw in enough oxygen to fill her lungs and calm down her pulse. As she oriented herself to her surroundings, she remembered parts of the dream and turned her head sharply to the side. Only when she saw Booth sleeping next to her was she able to fully relax. Breathing deeply, she closed her eyes and waited to regain full control before moving.

Careful to not wake Booth, she silently slid from the bed. She put on her slippers and robe before walking towards the door. After quietly closing the door behind her, she made her way to the kitchen to brew a cup of tea. This was not the first time she'd had that nightmare and she knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep for quite some time. As she waited for the water to boil, she reflected on how different her nightmares were from Booth's; while both were equally excruciatingly painful, his were violent and noisy while hers were soundless and paralyzing. She wondered if that said anything about their personalities. Since she was sure Sweets would have some psychological babble to sprout about it, she was grateful it had never been mentioned.

When the tea was ready, she went into the living room and settled onto the sofa. Curling her legs beneath her, she idly thought about turning on the television Booth had surprised her with a few weeks after they got together. But while the background might distract her, she didn't want to take the chance of waking Booth. Those sniper reflexes of his were still pretty sharp and it didn't take much for him to wake up. In fact, it wouldn't surprise her at all if he were to come out looking for her. She was rarely able to leave the bed without him noticing it and coming after her. It was a side effect of having a long term boyfriend she hadn't been expecting – having someone there to comfort you when waking from a nightmare. Still, she'd rather he get a good night's rest and not wake up.

Having decided that turning on the TV wasn't an option, she thought about what else she could do to keep her mind from going back to the nightmare. She couldn't seem to shake off the dread it had generated, even though she knew that it hadn't happened like that, that it was just her subconscious mind taking those events and coming up with the worse "what if?" scenario it could.

The only thing the nightmare and the real life events had in common was that Booth had been shot in the karaoke bar; everything else had been very different. While the doctor had come out of the surgery looking weary, tired and bloodstained, he had told them that Booth had come out of the surgery alive but that it would be touch and go for a while. Brennan had left the hospital shortly thereafter but only after checking on Booth and only to change out of the blood soaked clothes.

Just as she had been getting ready to go back to the hospital, someone had knocked on her door. When she'd opened it, she'd found Deputy Director Cullen standing there with a grave look on his face. The sight of Booth's boss on her door step would have been an alarming one on any occasion but on that particular night, it was terrifying. Her knees had buckled as her brain came up with the most likely reason for the visit and she'd shaken her head as she whispered, 'no'.

Cullen had reached for her and had helped her to the sofa, as he quickly explained that there was no reason for alarm and that Booth was fine. He had gone on to say that there was a national security situation that required their attention. He had then told her as much as he could of the situation before finishing with the fact that it was necessary to make everyone believe Booth was dead. Since Booth hadn't recovered consciousness yet, the details hadn't all been worked out but given the relationship between them, Cullen had felt that it was only right she be informed of what was coming.

After calming down, she had thanked Cullen for his consideration and asked what was it she needed to do. He'd explained that Booth would need to stay in the hospital a few days and then would be moved to a safe house as he couldn't return to his own apartment for the time being. She had asked if he could come and stay in her apartment instead of going to a safe house. Cullen had at first refused but had finally given in to her somewhat less than logical arguments.

Before leaving, Cullen had told her that it'd be better if she didn't go to see Booth that night as they had already started to spread the news of Booth's 'death' and Cullen's visit would be seen in that light. She hadn't liked it, she had really wanted to see him again, but knew that she wouldn't gain anything by arguing.

The next two weeks had been hard, harder than she'd thought they'd be. Lying to her friends, especially Angela, while pretending to grieve for Booth had been extremely difficult. Work, usually her haven, became a trial and she'd have happily stayed home with Booth if she hadn't been sure Angela would have shown up every day to make sure she was alright.

Finally, the two weeks were over and the national security situation had been resolved. After telling their friends the truth and convincing Angela that it had had nothing to do with trusting her, they had all gone out to celebrate Booth' rejoining the living.

That had been over a year ago and though she'd had nightmares about what could have happened almost every night right after the shooting, as time had passed, they had come less and less often until weeks and then months had gone by without a nightmare. She wasn't sure what had prompted this latest nightmare and was pondering that thought when Booth's hand landed on her shoulder and he walked in front of her before dropping next to her.

"Nightmare, huh, Bones?" he asked around a yawn, propping his feet on the coffee table and turning his head to look at her.

"Yes," she answered before sipping her tea.

"I thought you might have," he said, nodding his head.

"You did?" she asked, surprised, though maybe she shouldn't have been since he often seemed to know her better than she knew herself.

"Ummm," he answered, as he stretched his arms over his head. "It was the girls singing along to that Cindy Lauper song that brought it on, wasn't it?" They had spent the day with Russ and his family and in the evening Russ' daughters had entertained them by singing different songs.

"Yes, I guess it was," she replied in a thoughtful voice. "I hadn't realized they'd sang that particular song."

"I'm not surprised," he said with a shrug. "You were too busy arguing with Russ about which ice cream flavor was better when they sang it."

"Chocolate is obviously the better choice," she grumbled, crossing her arms across her chest. "Russ has never had good taste."

"If you say so," Booth agreed, grinning. Watching Brennan argue over silly things with her brother had been amusing but seeing how Brennan interacted with her nieces had been heartwarming. For someone that had once claimed not to know how to interact with kids, she was one fantastic aunt. "The video game you bought the girls sure was a hit."

"It was, wasn't it?" she asked, grinning as she remembered the girls' enthusiastic thanks.

"I was surprised that the song was a part of the selection, though," he commented.

"I didn't really read over the selection," she shrugged. "That was the game Russ told me the girls wanted, so I just bought it."

"I almost told them to skip it, you know," he told her as he picked up her hand and played with her fingers.

"I'm glad you didn't," she replied, looking at his bent head. "It's a great song that I enjoyed with my mom; I wouldn't want to deprive them of enjoying it just because it reminds me of a . . . difficult time."

"Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say," he told her as he looked up at her. "Temperance," he said, seriously, "I know that was very hard on you."

"But it's over now," she interrupted him, not wanting to think about it anymore.

"Yes, I know that it's over," he agreed. "But it's obvious that it still weighs heavily on your mind."

"No, not really," she denied, shaking her head. "I've dealt with it and moved on. It's been months since I've had a nightmare and I only had it tonight because I'd heard the song – you said it yourself."

He looked deep into her eyes for a few moments before asking, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," she said firmly, nodding her head for emphasis.

"Okay," he finally accepted her reassurance. "But please," he added, "promise me that you'll talk to me if you start having the nightmare again or if you have trouble dealing with it or the reasons for it."

"I promise," she acquiesced with a small nod.

"Good," he smiled. "Now, let's go back to bed, huh?" he asked, getting to his feet and pulling her to hers.

"Yes, let's go back to bed," she murmured and followed him back to the bedroom. Once there, they quickly got in bed and he pulled her into his arms. She rested her head on his chest and allowed his heat to warm the cold places inside her the nightmare had left behind. But as much as his heat warmed her, there was a small part of her that couldn't help but shiver at the thought that someday her nightmare might come true. She tried to shut it down and to simply enjoy having him next to her. As she drifted off to sleep, she was conscious that she hadn't been completely successful and could only hope that time would put that fear to rest.

**A/N2: **So, what did you guys think? Not my usual at all, but you have to go where musie says to go. I'm just happy that she's finally back for good. As usual, my thanks to Puppet for betaing and to Sany for helping me when I got stuck or wrote myself into a corner, which happened more than once in this fic. I also need to thank Kerrie, without whom this fic would probably have not been writting - and she might just be wishing it wasnt! If she hadn't sent me that video link (which she's probably wishing she hadnt), I wouldnt have come up with the idea. And if we hadn't had all those discussions about the travesty that was that finale, I don't know that I would have wanted to put Brennan through the wringer, as it were. This was my way to excorcise that fiasco of a finale and maybe vindicate Brennan while I was it. This was also a great way to lay down a bit more groundwork to explain why Brennan acted as she did in the events leading to BP. I know the ending is not as fluffy as you're used to getting from me, but hey, there's bound to be some conflict in a four years relationshiop, isnt there? Please let me know what you think!

**Timeline: **this one shot is placed a few months after the last one, in the beginning of fall, so about a year and 9 months after SP, and about a year and a half after the shooting occurred (I'm following cannon up to that point, with the added detailed of BB being together or course). I hope that made sense. Ask me if it doesnt!


	6. Pleasure Point

**Pleasure Point**

**Disclaimer: **Neither the characters nor the song belong to me.

**A/N: **Sorry it's been a while but I've been trying to finish my sg1 fic, which I hadn't updated for over a year, I'll concentrate on this fic after I get done with that - there're only two chapters left. This one shot is to make up for all the angst of the last one. It's all fluff and smut. Well, not as much smut as I thought there'd be but again, you have to go where musie goes. The song is called "La Locura" by Yahir. It's one of my all time favorites and I've wanted to write a one shot based on it for a long time. But I had to wait until I get to the rigth place in the Points timeline. Speaking of which, here it: This is set three years after the start of Starting Point as it's their anniversary. So, it's set a year and a few months after the last Points one shot. Yes, I skipped forward a bit. But like I said, I've been wanting to write this one shot for quite a while now and I figured you deserved a treat after so much angst. Anyway, hope you enjoy!!

. . . _Another cold day in our nation's capitol. With temperatures in the mid-20's, we will have more snow . . ._

With a muffled groan, Seeley Booth stretched out his arm from under the covers and slapped shut the alarm clock. Rapidly retracting his arm, he burrowed further under the pillows and wished he didn't have to get up. God knew it was cold out; it seemed as if mother nature was trying to make up for the last two not so cold winters by having this winter be one of the coldest in memory. It was only the second week of January and they'd already had three snowstorms.

Going out into the cold and dark and leaving the warm and cozy bed was the last thing he felt like doing. He just knew that he would be covered in goose-bumps on the walk to the bathroom, despite the fact that the heat was on. Lately, his apartment was always cold in the morning and he had the sneaking suspicion that Brennan turned the heat down before going to bed. She denied it whenever he asked her, of course. And the few times he'd remembered to check it out, it hadn't seemed as if it was changed. But he knew she was sneaky and really wouldn't put it past her to turn it down and then put it back before he had a chance to check it out. The woman liked getting her own way and was not above a little trickery to get it.

Thinking of Brennan . . . maybe he could convince her to help him warm up a little. He started allowing for a little morning play when setting the alarm after the one time she was late for work and he got a half an hour lecture as a result shortly after they became a couple. When he sent his hand to look for her, however, he only found cold sheets.

_Por que sigo como un loco_/Because I'm still, like an insane man  
_dando vueltas en la nada_/rolling around in the ether  
_persiguiendo ese fantasma_/ pursuing that ghost  
_que dejaste en mi cama_/ that you left in my bed

Frowning, and keeping his eyes closed because, to do otherwise would mean he accepted the reality of being awake and he liked to put that off as long as possible, he moved his hand all over her side of the bed and still didn't encounter her warm body. Finally and only after having had his leg join in the search, he gave up and opened his eyes to verify what his limbs had told him: she was in fact not in the bed.

After scowling at her side of the bed for not having her, he looked up at the nightstand and saw she had at least had the common decency of leaving him a note. She knew he didn't like to get up and not find her. Shivering a little in the cold air, still convinced that she was messing with the thermostat at night, he reached out and picked up her note.

_Booth: Went to work early so I could get most of my work done before we leave for the cabin. Took a cab so my car won't stay all weekend in the lab's parking lot; my bags are all packed, ready and waiting for you by the front door. See you at noon, love, Bones_.

He grinned when he read it and wondered how he could have for even a few seconds forgotten what today was. It was the Friday before the Saturday that marked the third anniversary of the day they finally declared their feelings for each other. He had managed to convince her to take a long weekend off so that they could go to his friend's cabin and celebrate their anniversary properly. He had even talked her into leaving work early so they could have an early start. She had grumbled and argued but had given in faster than he'd thought she would. It seemed as if she was as excited about the milestone as he was.

With the thought of having her all to himself for the whole weekend, keeping him warm, he walked to the bathroom. Whistling and never once thinking about the cold, he turned on the shower and let the water run while he washed up at the sink. After taking a quick shower, he was back in front of the sink, with a towel loosely knotted around his hips and water dripping from his hair down his muscular chest.

He continued whistling a tune he'd heard Brennan play the other night while he shaved; he wasn't really sure what the lyrics meant, as the song was in Spanish, he just knew it was a sexy little melody. When he was done shaving, he patted some aftershave onto his cheeks before putting on some gel and combing his hair.

By the time he walked back into the bedroom, the weather was the farthest thing on his mind. He was more preoccupied with deciding what he'd wear. He couldn't decide between a suit or jeans and a pullover. He was going into the office for half a day, so he should wear a suit but they were driving to the cabin straight from the lab and driving for hours wearing a suit wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world.

He was standing in front of his closet when his phone rang. He walked over to the nightstand to pick it up; really hoping it wasn't the office with a new case. "Booth," he said into it, without looking at the caller id as he walked back to the closet.

"Hey, Bones. How are you this fine morning?" He asked when he heard her voice on the line. "I missed you when I woke up. You just had to go in early, didn't you?" He grinned at her answer, "Yeah, yeah, I know. I should be grateful you said yes to leaving early. Umm, what am I doing? Trying to decide what to wear . . . I do not take longer than you but can I help it if I like to look good? . . . Well, I can't decide between a suit or jeans; I'm going to the office so I should wear a suit but a suit's hell to drive on. Although, it is Friday and I'm don't have any appointments and I'm just going to do paperwork. . . . Huh? Why are you changing? Oh, that's right; that meeting was today, wasn't it? We could change in your office together – now, there's an idea," he added, grinning. "We could have a little fun before leaving . . . Oh, come on, you can't tell me you've never thought about it." He laughed, "Okay, Bones. I'll see you later. Love you, bye."

After snapping close his cell and putting it down, Booth reached out for a suit and put it on. He also chose a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt in which to change into before leaving the lab. He packed the car with their cases and the food they'd bought the night before. They'd stopped on the way out of the city for any perishables, but for the two days they were going to spend in the mountains, they didn't need much.

On the way to the office, he stopped to get some coffee. Just plain old, dark coffee; he'd leave all the new flavors and stuff to Bones. He preferred it just plain with lots of sugar. When he walked into his office and saw the mountain of paperwork he had to go through, he groaned before taking a deep breath and diving into it.

A few hours later, and several tons of paperwork after, Booth walked into the Jeffersonian. Before he even took two steps towards her office, however, he heard her voice from the platform. He immediately changed directions and went up the stairs.

_Por que vuelves como siempre_/Because you come back, like always  
_A cruzarte en mi mirada_/ to cross my gaze  
_adueñarte de mi mente_/ and to take possession of my mind  
_enrredandome en tus ganas_/entangling me in your desires

They'd been together three years and had known each other almost six and still the sight of her could sucker punch him at the most unexpected moments. Like it happened when he reached the top and saw her cross the platform to Hodgins' area. It hadn't even been twelve hours since they'd seen each other, and there he stood, grinning at the sight of her, able to think of nothing but the weekend they'd spend together.

He was still grinning like an idiot, when Angela came up behind him.

"Hey, Booth," she said, as she walked around. "Here to pick up Bren already?"

"Yeah," he said, finally coming out of his lust and love induced trance. "We better get a move on if we want to make it to the cabin before dark," he said as he walked towards Brennan and Hodgins. "Bones, you ready to go?" he asked, rubbing his hands and bouncing on his toes.

"In a minute, Booth," she answered, distractedly. "Just let me finish this."

"Come on, Bones," he wheedled, walking closer to where she was standing. "We have to leave soon if we want to miss the snow."

"It's going to snow?" she asked, looking up at him. At his nod, she frowned and said, "again?"

"Yup, again," he nodded again. "Seems Mother Nature wants to make up for all the snow we didn't get last year."

"Well, I was happier with her last year," she mumbled before telling Hodgins to store the results and she'd look at them when she came back. "Give me a minute to store the remains I was examining and we can go."

"Sure," he said, and leaned against the rail to wait for her.

_Dime amiga si es normal_/ tell me, lover, if it's normal  
_que aun me tiemblen las rodillas_/ that my knees still tremble  
_cada vez que yo imagino_/each time I imagine  
_que tus manos me acarician/_ that your hands are caressing me  
_Dime amiga como puedo yo_/ tell me, lover, how can I  
_calmar esta agonia_/ calm this agony  
_mientras mas te hago el amor/_ the more I make love to you  
_mas te deseo...Todavia_/ the more I want you . . . still

Looking at her was never a hardship for him. And truth be told, he liked watching her handle bones. She was always so careful with them; her hands so delicate and graceful as she examined them and always so attentive to the smallest of details. If he didn't actively keep his mind focused on something else, it always came up with little fantasies where her hands were as delicate and graceful on his body and her attention soley on exploring him. He'd spent more than a delightful few hours coming up with all sorts of scenarios as he waited for her to finish one thing or another before leaving for the day.

On one of his favorite ones, they were alone at the lab one night. They'd either stayed to finish some paperwork or he was waiting for her to finish an examination, the reason didn't matter, the important thing was that there was no one else in the lab. Even the guards had taken a break. He was watching her work when she leaned forward to study something and the sight of her trousers stretching over her ass was more than he could resist.

He walked forward to stand just behind her and leaned in to kiss the spot behind her ear that always made her shudder. His hands encircled her waist and pulled her closer to his body.

"Booth," she sighed, as his hands burrowed beneath her shirt. "What are you doing?" She asked, as one of his hands drifted upwards towards her chest and the other downwards.

"If I have to tell you," he said, nuzzling her neck, "then I'm not doing it right."

Just as his hands were reaching their intended target, the real live Brennan broke into the fantasy.

"Booth?" she asked, frowning up at him. "You ok?"

"Huh?" he asked, coming back to reality with a jerk. "Yes, yes; I'm fine. Just . . . thinking. Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," she answered, looking back at her lab station with a bigger frown. "There are a few things . . . but they can finish without me," she added with a slight hesitation. Booth nodded before putting his hand on the small of her back to guide her back to her office.

She couldn't resist one last look back as they went down the steps, however. It had been almost two years since they discovered that Zack was the apprentice and still the platform just didn't look right without him on it. The fact that Brennan never kept an assistant for more than a few months might have had something to do with it; they just never had any time to get used to the sight of someone else.

Booth knew why she hadn't settled on anyone new; for one thing there was no one else that could replace Zack and for another, she didn't want to get close to anyone else. Zack's betrayal had hit her particularly hard. It wasn't often she let people in but she had let Zack in. They had so much in common, both geniuses that were more comfortable in the lab than in the real world, that it had been almost natural to come to regard him as a younger brother. It had certainly been easier to care for him and to let him in than it had been with anyone else. And for Zack, of all people, to do something so against everything she believed in had really shaken her. So much so, that she and Booth had had a rocky time afterwards.

With a shake of his head, Booth banished such thoughts; that had been then and this was now. And the now was a whole weekend alone with his Bones.

As soon as they entered her office, he pulled her towards him while he closed the door with his foot. "Good morning," he whispered huskily, after soundly kissing her. "I didn't get my good morning kiss this morning," he told her with a grin before swooping down for another kiss.

"And that one was for . . .?" she asked when he let her come up for air.

"That one was the proper 'hello'," he explained with a smirk. She had insisted that they maintain proper decorum while in the lab or the Hoover building to avoid any complications with their partnership; she might be completely committed to the relationship and would choose it over the partnership but there wasn't much that she liked better than working with Booth and if a little restraint would help in keeping it she saw nothing wrong in exercising it. Since Booth also liked working with her, he'd agreed to the restraint. The fact was that neither was very big on PDAs but when the door was closed all bets were off.

"Umm," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I didn't say good bye this morning either," she told him. "Don't you think we need a good bye kiss too?"

"You're absolutely right," he whispered, right before covering her lips with his. This time the kiss was a little deeper, a lot hotter and lasted longer that the ones before. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing faster. They grinned at each other foolishly for a few seconds before she pulled away.

"Ok," she said. "That's enough kissing for right now if you want to get out of here anytime soon."

"Yeah," he agreed reluctantly as he picked up the carry on he'd dropped when he pulled her into his arms. "I'll just change before we leave."

"Ok," she said again, moving towards her desk. "I have to turn off my computer and put away some things, anyway."

Booth nodded, before he realized something that had his head coming up. "Hey, how come you're already changed? I thought we were going to change together," he pouted, doing a fair imitation of Parker when he'd been denied a treat.

"If I'd waited to change with you," she told him, shaking her head and smiling at his pout, "we wouldn't get out of here for another hour at least. And I knew you wanted to leave early."

He had to concede she was right even if he had been looking forward to some hanky panky before they left.

"Actually," she commented, once more breaking into one of his fantasies, "I thought you might be by earlier."

"I did leave the office earlier than I'd planned," he agreed. "But I stopped by the grocery store to pick up the rest of the stuff we need. I figured it would be a good thing to get it out of the way."

This time it was she that nodded her agreement. "That's good," she said as she leaned against her desk to watch him finish getting dressed; watching him getting dressed was, after all, no hardship for her. "Have you had lunch?"

"No yet," he answered as he sat down to put on his tennis shoes. "It's kinda early; you?" when she shook her head, he added, "I thought we could stop somewhere along the way and pick up something."

"Sounds like a plan," she said as he stood up and walked towards her.

"Enjoyed the show?" he asked her as he placed his hands on either side of her hips, caging her in.

"Oh, yes," she answered, earnestly. "I enjoyed it very much," she assured him as her arms went once more around his neck. "In fact, I make it a point to watch it at least once a day," she added, as she leaned in for another kiss.

"Yeah?" he asked against her lips. "Happy to be of help," he said before joining their lips once again. Before they could get carried away, however, there was a knock on the door followed closely by Cam coming in.

"Dr. Brennan," she was saying, "before you go . . ." she trailed off when she saw them kissing. "I'm sorry," she added, with a small smile. "I guess I should have waited for a 'come in'. Hello Booth," she said, looking at the FBI agent, who had now broken the kiss and was standing beside Brennan. "Aren't you a little early?"

"Nope," he shook his head and went to pick up his carry on and suit, which was hanging on the hanger he'd brought especially for it. It was a two thousand dollar suit; no way would he stick it in the carry on. "I'm a little late, actually. Can whatever it is you need Bones for wait until we're back? I want to get out of here before the snow starts."

"Yes, I guess it can," Cam answered with a nod. "I just thought I'd get it out of the way before she left."

"If it's important," Brennan started to say, frowning at Booth who glared at her.

Cam laughed at their faces and shook his head. "No, it's okay; you guys go ahead and leave. We'll see you next week. Have a good time," she told them before she left, wondering how it was that they'd lasted three whole years when they argued about almost everything.

"You heard her, Bones," Booth said, throwing the carry on over his shoulder and pulling her forwards. "Let's go; the cabin is waiting for us."

"The cabin is an inanimate object, Booth," she protested, "it can't do anything – that includes waiting for us or anyone. And would you stop pulling me?" She asked, pulling away and darting back to pick up her purse and bag. "You're always pulling me here or pushing me there," she complained as he once more pulled her away from her office. "I wish you'd stop."

"Come on, Bones," he told her as they crossed the lab towards the door, "I've been pulling you for almost six years now; me pulling you is tradition. I don't think I could stop now."

"You can try," she argued. "It wouldn't do you any harm if you'd just wait for me to get wherever we're going on my own time, you know? I'm not a . . ." whatever she wasn't was lost as the door shut behind them, leaving a room full of squints smiling and shaking their heads at the inevitable Booth/Brennan squabble of the day.

Several hours later, the couple was no longer bickering. Instead, they were cuddling in front of the fire at the cabin.

They'd beaten the snow by less than an hour. But had had enough time to stop at the restaurant in town to pick up dinner. Brennan had brought all the ingredients for her mac and cheese; but that was for the night of their anniversary. They rarely cooked their first night in the cabin since the restaurant was pretty good and picking up dinner was easier than cooking after traveling.

"This is nice," Booth said, sipping from his hot cocoa. Though they were on a mini-vacation, it was too cold out to have beer or wine. Besides, ever since Brennan had seen a documentary on how much alcohol Americans consumed, she'd restricted his beer intake and her wine intake to once a weekend and only twice during the week. He'd grumbled a bit but had given in relatively easy.

The truth was, he'd seen more than one Army buddy resort to the bottle to forget their demons and he was determined not to follow in their footsteps. Not only did he have more self-respect than to abuse his body like that but, he had a son that thought his daddy could do no wrong – no way, would he set a bad example or give him any reason to be ashamed. So, three times a week wasn't really that much less than he used to have.

"Yes, it is," Brennan agreed, setting down her cup and cuddling into his side. They were sitting on the floor with Booth resting against the couch and Brennan resting on him.

"Glad I talked you into the long weekend?" he asked, draining his cup before putting it down.

"You didn't talk me into it, Booth," she protested and he smirked but didn't argue. "But yes, I'm glad we're here."

"Me too," he said, pulling her closer to his body and dropping a kiss on her hair. "Three years," he said after a short silent moment, where they'd both gazed into the fire. "Can you believe it's been three years already?"

"It doesn't seem that long, does it?" she replied, throwing her leg over his and shifting even closer to him – if that was possible.

"Nope," he agreed before adding, "on the other hand, I can't remember being with anyone else but you. Sometimes, it seems as if we've been together forever."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" she asked, looking up at him with a fake frown.

"A very good thing," he reassured her, dropping his head to kiss her briefly. "A very good thing," he repeated.

"It better be," she threatened him before resting her head on his chest once more. "But I know what you mean," she told him a few moments later. "I can barely remember a time when you weren't in my life either."

"I'm glad," he said. "I wouldn't want to be the only one to feel like this," he shrugged when she looked up at him in question. She nodded and turned her eyes back to the fire, hiding her grin. She wouldn't want him to think she was making fun of him; she just found it a bit funny that he could still feel insecure at times, despite everything they'd gone through. "And it's more than ok with me if you can't remember anyone else but me."

That wasn't exactly what she'd said. But three years of being with him and six of having known him, had taught her that sometimes it was better not to correct those little misconceptions. That would only lead to an argument that was not necessary since allowing him his little fancies made him happy and didn't hurt anyone. So, she just nodded and let him go on believing she didn't remember any of her previous relationships. She might remember them but since she never really thought of them, he was more or less correct anyway.

"The cabin seems bigger without Parker here," she commented.

"Yeah," he agreed, smiling at yet more evidence of how close she'd become to Parker. "But we'll come with him this summer on our annual vacation. He enjoys it better in the summer anyway," he added. "Not to mention that he has school Monday and this is a romantic weekend."

"I know," she nodded. "I just miss him. I didn't really get to see him last weekend."

"He misses you too," he told her. "But we'll have him next weekend and he's already planned the list of questions he has for you and the movies you just "have" to watch."

"I know," she said again. "He called me yesterday," she informed him smiling.

"He did?" he asked, pulling away a little to look down at her face. "How come you didn't tell me?"

"It slipped my mind," she shrugged. "We were busy packing, remember? Does it bother you that he called me?" she asked, a little worried. He wasn't the only one that could feel insecure on occasion.

"No, of course it doesn't," he answered quickly and without hesitation. "I love it that you two get along so well, you know that. I guess I was just surprised, it's all. He usually tells me when he's going to call you but he didn't this time."

"I guess he no longer feels that he needs permission," she guessed.

"I guess," he agreed. But he didn't sound too happy and she noticed.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "I thought it was a good thing that he felt comfortable enough to call me without asking permission."

"It is," he affirmed. "It's not that; it's just," he shook his head and smiled ruefully. "I guess it's just another sign that my little boy is growing up and I'm not ready for it."

"Oh," she said and then lapsed into silence since she had no clue how to respond. "Well, you know, all little boys have to grow up sooner or later," she ventured when the silence had lengthen. "It's a biological fact that . . ."

"No, please, Bones," he said, falling to the side and covering his eyes with his arm. "No science this weekend, please I beg you!! Torture me if you want but no science talk. I don't think I could take it," he cried out.

"Ok," she said, crossing her arms below her breasts and pouting a little. "I won't say another word."

"Come on, Bones," he said, sitting up and advancing on her. "I was just kidding. You're not really upset, are you?"

"Upset?" she asked, archly. "Just because you shut me up when I was trying to comfort you? Why would that upset me?" she added, as she scooted away from him.

"I'm sorry I ruined your attempts at comforting me," he told her sincerely. "But I think I have another way for you to comfort me," he overtook her and she fell backwards. "A way that's guaranteed to make me feel fantastic," he added as he crawled on hands and knees over her body.

"Yeah?" she asked. "Well, I don't think I want to make you feel better anymore," she informed him, re-crossing her arms, which had fallen open when she fell down.

"Of course you do," he insisted. As he sat back on his haunches on top of her legs and reached for the buttons of her shirt, uncrossing her arms in the process. "You always want to make me feel better, you know why?" he asked as he finished unbuttoning her shirt and spread it open. He looked down at her bared torso before gliding his hands from her waist to her breasts and leaned down to kiss her. "Because," he whispered when he came up for air, "you're as crazy about me as I am about you."

_La locura_/ the insanity  
_va rodeando lentamente tu cintura_/ slowly goes around your waist  
_y con mis dedos paso a paso te desnudan_/ and with my fingers, step by step undress you

Y hasta el alma pierde la cordura...estoy cerca de ti/ and even the soul loses it's sanity . . . I'm close to you

"Me?" she asked, gasping. "Crazy? I don't think so," she told him.

"Yes, you are," he insisted as he pulled back to sit on his haunches again. He reached for the hem of his sweatshirt and pulled it and the t-shirt underneath over his head. He turned around to throw both items to the couch; when he turned back around, Brennan was reaching for his belt.

"I don't know about crazy," she argued as she leaned in and bit his shoulder. "But I do like how well-structured you are."

"I know you do," he grinned and took the opportunity to reached beneath her open shirt and unhook her bra. While she slid her hands beneath the elastic of his underwear and fondled his rear, he reached under her bra and kneaded her breasts.

"And I know you are crazy about mine," she bantered back, though his hands were making her lose the gist of the conversation.

"Oh, yeah, that I am," he agreed and pulled back a little to start on her pants. "Before I was crazy about you, I was crazy about your body."

"Are you telling me," she asked, arching one eyebrow even as she leaned back on her elbows to give him more room to open her pants. "That even when you were arguing with me, you were ogling my body?"

"Of course," he shrugged. "And you were doing the same," he told her with a look that dared her to deny it. But she just shrugged back and smiled enigmatically. He grinned back at her and leaned in close for another kiss. "I love your lips," he told her when he pulled back. "They could get me to do just about anything you want," he confessed and then thought about it and added, "Actually, they have gotten me to do most anything you want."

"Are you saying I manipulate you?" she asked him innocently, while she batted her eyelashes and pouted her lips for maximum effect.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," he answered, grinning. "But then, I've gotten pretty good at getting what I want from you, haven't I?" he asked, smirking down at her.

_La locura_/ the insanity  
_son tus labios reclamandome la luna_/ are your lips demanding the moon  
_el responderte sin saber lo que preguntas_/ is answering you without knowing what you ask  
_es abandonar la vida_/ is to abandon life  
_para renacer en ti_/ to be reborn in you

"I guess we're even then," she said as they separated to get rid of what clothes they still had on.

"I guess so," he agreed. When they were both naked, he pulled her back down and softly kissed her. His hand slid from her breast to her waist and then to her hip and outer thigh. "You are beautiful," he said when he pulled back from the slow kiss as his hand softly kneaded her breast and pinched her nipple.

"So, are you," she whispered as her hands moved to his shoulders to pull him back down. They shared another slow, long kiss before he started to rain kisses down her neck towards her chest.

She arched back when he reached her breast and took her nipple into his mouth. She sighed deeply as her hands entangled in his hair. He pulled back to look into her eyes once more. When he bent down to kiss her again, they both knew that it was going to be slow and sweet that night.

_La locura_/the insanity  
_La locura...eres tu_/ the insanity . . . is you  
_eres.../_ is . . .  
_Dime amiga si es normal_/tell me, lover, if it's normal  
_que me quede en carne viva_/ that I'm left raw  
_cada vez que yo imagino_/ each time I imagine  
_que tus manos me acarician_/ that your hands are caressing me  
_ven y dime amiga como puedo yo calmar esta agonia/_ tell me, lover, how can I calm this agony  
_mientras mas te hago el amor_/ the more I make love to you  
_mas te deseo...todavia/_ the more I want you . . . still

The following hour saw the lovers pay homage to each other. Hands glided down slick flesh, kisses where deep and slow, and sighs were long and heartfelt. At one point, Brennan twisted her body and ended up on top of Booth. He wasn't that surprised, since it wasn't the first time she'd turned the tables on him and he always enjoyed the heck out of it. He was reminded of his earlier fantasy when he saw and felt her delicate hands examine him as closely as any bone had ever been examined.

When he finally thrust into her, they were both more than ready. He flipped them over once more and took her in slow, easy plunges. A few thrusts later, they were ready to go over. He pushed up on his elbows, grabbed her hands and stared into her eyes as they both gave in and lost their minds in utter pleasure.

_La locura/_ the insanity  
_mi locura_/ my insanity  
_eres tu../_is you …  
_eres mi...locura_/ you are my . . .insanity

When they finally came back to reality some time later, Booth shifted enough to get up and pulled her into his arms. When she blinked her eyes open, he smiled down at her and kissed her forehead. "Go back to sleep," he told her. "I'm just putting us to bed." She smiled back and allowed her eyes to drift shut. A few moments later, he was pulling the covers over both of them.

"Sweet dreams, Bones," he said, kissing her softly before pulling her close to his body. "Love you."

She shifted closer to him, so that she ended up with her head on his chest, her arm over his stomach and her leg over his. She kissed his chest and murmured, "love you, too." A few seconds later, when he was almost asleep, she added, "I _am_ crazy about you."

He grinned into the darkness at her admission and pulling her even closer, drifted off to sleep.


	7. Point of Grace

**Point of Grace**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, they still don't belong to me.

**A/N: **Well, here's the next one shot!! This one is a bit different than the rest. Not only is it a really, really long one; it's almost two in one, which might account for the length now that I think about it - but I think it flows really well and I really didn't want to break it in two, so I figure, I'd give you a really long chapter. Kinda like in compensation for it having been so long since I posted anything for this fic. So, part of this fic is in direct response to how they introduced Jared in the show. While I liked parts of that ep, especially the ending, I didn't think Brennan would be taken in so easily when it comes to Booth's character. At least, I didn't want her to be taken in so easily, so, as I did with last season's finale, I fixed it my way. I also re-worked that part about Booth's childhood and yes, I do realize that as of now, I'm going agaisnt canon, but the whole fic goes agaisnt canon, so what's one more little detail. The thing is that the new storyline about him being abused seemed to go agaisnt some comments he'd made in earlier seasons, so I found a way to try and reconciled them. K, so this fic is dedicated to Kerrie, to whom I promised it. I know it's like three months late but here it is! I hope you enjoy it! Though, I know you will cause you had a preview of it! But this is the polished version, so it should be an easier read. Thanks to puppet for her help betaing, as always. And thanks to all of you for still reading this universe of mine, which started as my attempt to give Booth some cojones (can I say that in here? oh, wait, this is rated M so I guess I can). It really was supposed to only be a five chapter fic where we see Booth tell Brennan 'enough' but somehow it kinda got out of control. I was recentely asked if I was still planning on writing that sequel I promised awhile back, Turning Point. I am. I just want to finish these one shots first, which hopefully, will be soon. I only have another two or three I want to write - at this time anyway :)

Ok, I should give you some sort of time line now, shouldn't I? Well, let's see. As you'll see, this is set on the fourth of July, so, let's say that it's set about five months after the last one shot and about 3 and a half years after the start of their relationship or the beginning of Starting point and about nine months before Breaking Point. Yes, I am aware that this is extremely fluffy, especially considering the events that will take place in Breaking Point. But, fear not, I will be writing a couple of other one shots, where I'll develop the tension that breaks during Breaking Point. There's one especially that will set it up really nicely, I think. K, well, that's all. Enjoy the fic!!!!

"Here, Tempe," Russ said, handing an ice cold bottle of beer to his sister Temperance Brennan.

"Thanks," Brennan accepted the bottle, giving her brother a small smile before she returned her eyes towards the pool. Russ sat on the lounge next to Brennan's and followed her line of sight.

"He sure gets along very well with the kids," Russ commented, with a grin, as the siblings observed Brennan's partner and boyfriend fool around in the pool with his son and Russ's two step-daughters. "The girls sure have a great time whenever we visit."

"Booth's a big kid himself," Brennan scoffed. "Of course he gets along great with them."

"That's true," Russ agreed, with a soft chuckle, and the two siblings watched in silence the antics of the 'kids' in the pool.

They were all at Angela and Hodgins' 'estate' for the obligatory Fourth of July barbeque/pool party. It had become tradition in the last few years that the team spend the holiday together; and since Brennan's family had come back into her life, the team had just made room for them and invited them to every 'friends and family' occasion.

When Brennan had first realized that almost half of the people showing up for the barbeque would be related to her, she had thought it only fair that she be the one to host the event. But, when she had suggested such a change, everyone had unanimously and instantaneously rejected it.

Angela had insisted she liked planning the party; she had actually asserted that the planning was half the fun for her and anyway, she'd argued, she didn't do it all herself. She had Hodgins' household staff to help her. Booth had looked at Brennan with his puppy eyes and asked her if she was seriously considering depriving his son of a pool party where he could have the pool almost all to himself. Brennan had wondered out loud which Booth would feel more deprived by the absence of the pool – Booth or Parker? Booth had rolled his eyes and hadn't bothered to answer but his opinion had been made more than clear.

Since the idea of deciding what food to serve, buying the food and getting it ready, not to mention the fact than then she'd have to actually clean the house and get it ready for guests, attend said guests and clean up the house after they left was not something she actually looked forward to, she decided not to push the issue. With a mental sigh of relief, she abandoned the idea of hosting the Fourth of July party and instead just prepared elaborate desserts that everyone looked forward to.

With that matter settled to everyone's satisfaction, the tradition continued year after year to the delight of children and adults alike. It was a day that was marked on everyone's calendar and no one wanted to miss as it was a great time for everyone involved.

"So," Russ said after they'd observed Booth and the kids playing on the pool for a few minutes, "how's everything going?"

"Good," Brennan answered with a nod and a distracted smile. "Everything's good."

"What is it?" Russ asked after looking at her closely. "What are you thinking so hard about?"

"What makes you think I'm thinking hard about anything?" She asked him, turning to look at him in surprise.

"Tempe, I know you," Russ told her with a small smile. "I know what that look on your face means. I'm kind of surprised to see it now, though."

"Huh?" She asked, even more confused now. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing," he answered, shrugging. "I've just seen that thinking face of yours before; it's just been awhile since I've seen it while we're having a day out." When she continued to look at him with a slight frown, he added, "since you and Booth got together, you haven't really worn it that often when we're all out together like this."

It was true, being in a relationship with Booth had made Brennan relax and enjoy aspects of life she had previously ignored. While she was still something of a workaholic, something she shared with Booth even if he would deny it, she no longer worked insane hours; and unless there was an urgent case, she was home every night by 7 and didn't go into the lab on the weekends – unless she was fighting with Booth and needed to get away from him for a bit, something that happened less and less.

"So," Russ said again, "do you want to tell me what's going on in that active mind of yours?"

"I'm just thinking about family," she answered with a shrug before taking a sip of her beer.

"Family," he repeated, running his gaze across the yard and seeing all his family: his father and Hodgins discussing the best way to do a proper barbeque, Amy and Angela sitting by the pool, their feet submerged in the water as they chatted with Cam who was lying on a chaise a few feet behind and Hailey, Emma, Parker and Booth playing some sort of tag game that ended with a giggling kid being dunked. "It's a good day to think about family," he said, smiling as Hailey came up from under the water laughing; he gave thanks for the miracle of modern science and his sister's connections every time he saw his daughter enjoy the physical activities other kids took for granted and that had been out of her reach for so long.

"Yes," Brennan murmured, bringing the bottle to her lips once more before falling into silence for a few moments. "You know," she continued with a thoughtful frown, "Booth once told me that there's more than one kind of family."

"Well," Russ said as he looked around the backyard again, not sure where his sister was going with that train of thought. "I guess he's right; I mean, there's the family you're born into, and the family you make when you get married and have kids, whether they're yours biologically or not," he added that because he couldn't love Hailey and Emma more if they were his and he knew Tempe felt the same about Parker. "And there's also the family that you make with your friends – those you meet in school and the ones you meet at work; the ones that stay with you throughout your life and the ones that only stay for a few years, but who were family when they were there and who had a great impact on who you are." He paused for a minute to reflect on his words and realized that, "yes, Booth's right; there is more than one kind of family."

"Don't you find it ironic," she asked him, still focused firmly on the pool and the people in it, "that sometimes the family you were born into, the one that is supposed to stay with you for all of your life, the one that is supposed to _want_ to stay with you, sometimes is the one that doesn't and the family of friends that have no obligation to stick around, you can't get rid of if you tried?"

"I don't know if I'd called it ironic," Russ answered, as he shifted uncomfortably on his chaise; the conversation had taken a turn he hadn't expected and one he didn't want to follow. "I mean, the family you choose, chooses you too. It only makes sense that they'd want to stick around. And sometimes, the family you're born into . . . well, sometimes people have to make decisions," he continued after a brief hesitation, "sometimes they think they only have one feasible alternative and see no other way out and sometimes after they act, they realized that wasn't the only option but by then it's too late – the die had been cast. But whether it was right or wrong, they were doing what they thought was the best thing for everyone."

Brennan turned to look at her brother, who was staring intently at his step-daughters and realized that he was talking about himself and their father. She hadn't really brought up the subject thinking about them; she'd come to terms with the past – at least, as much as she was going to come to terms with it.

"I know," Brennan said softly. "Some people act in what they think is in the best interest of everyone, even if they're wrong but some people . . . some people only think of themselves and of what's good for them. And those are the people that stay around even when you don't want them around. Those are the people that should leave and stay away but instead they keep showing up like a bad penny and causing chaos and pain whenever they appear again." As she talked, she got more and more upset so that by the end she was visibly excited and frowning.

"Okay," Russ said, drawing the word out. "We're not just talking theoretically, are we?" He asked, looking at Brennan with a knowing expression in his eyes.

Brennan shot him a glare before turning her eyes back to the pool and Booth playing with the kids without saying anything. Russ knew his sister and knew she would get around to telling him what was bothering her in her own time.

She seemed to be contemplating something for long moments before she took another sip of her beer, blew out a hard breath and shook her head. "No," she finally said, agreeing with him. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, she added, "we had dinner with Booth's brother last night."

"Booth's brother?" he asked, a bit confused at what seemed a change of subject. "I didn't even know he had a brother." And as he said it, he started to connect the dots.

"Yes," Brennan told him. "He has a younger brother: Jared."

"Is he as charming as our Booth?" Russ asked with a grin.

"Hardly," Brennan snorted. "Booth might be charming but he's also honest, loyal and respectful; Jared is . . . he's as charming as a used car salesman, smarmy, sleazy and slick."

"Oh, no," Russ said, grinning. "Don't hold back; tell me what you really think."

Brennan turned and glared at him before turning back to look at the pool. Russ' grin faded when he noticed just how upset his sister looked. "You don't like him at all, do you?" He asked her, somewhat surprised when she immediately shook her head and said firmly and positively, "No." His sister might be willful and opinionated but she wasn't judgmental and she didn't dislike someone unless she had a darn good reason for it; that would be especially true if that person was somehow related to Booth. "What did he do?"

"He tried to hit me," she told him as she tapped her fingers against the beer bottle.

"He tried to _hit_ you?" he repeated, incredulously.

"Yes," she nodded. When she saw his stricken expression, she continued, "you know, he made a pass on me." Russ stared at her in complete confusion for a few seconds before it finally dawned on him what she meant.

"Wait," he told her. "Do you mean that he made a pass at you? That he tried to hit on you?"

"Yes," she answered. "That's what I said."

Russ opened his mouth to tell her that wasn't what she'd said but then thought better of it and decided to let it go. "Wait," he said, as what Brennan said finally sank in. "He _hit on you_?" This time he sounded offended. "That's wrong . . . just wrong. You don't hit on your brother's girlfriend – no matter what. I guess he really is sleazy."

"Yes," Brennan agreed, ignoring the fact that Russ had referred to her as Booth's girlfriend; while neither she nor Booth used those kinds of labels to describe their relationship, she'd resigned herself to the fact that other people needed to use them to feel more comfortable. "He is," she reiterated but then, honesty made her add, "in his defense though, he didn't really know that I was Booth's girlfriend when he made that pass."

"What do you mean?" Russ asked, now more confused than anything else.

"I met Jared at the lab, a few years ago, when Booth and I had only just starting dating," she started to explain. "And you know we don't like to bring our personal relationship into work, especially back then," Russ nodded, they were so good at keeping the professional and the personal separate that you wouldn't know they were a couple if you only saw them at work, "so he introduced me as his partner."

"Well," Russ said as he turned to look at her, "that's not so bad, then. I mean, I've seen you guys at work, no one can tell there's more to your relationship than a platonic partnership, unless they already know you guys are together. And you're an attractive woman; it's understandable if you get hit on."

"Yes, I know that," she conceded.

"What did he do when you told him you're with Booth?" he asked. "Cause you did tell him that you're in a romantic relationship with his brother, right?"

"Of course I did," Brennan answered, indignantly. "And he seemed to take it pretty good, actually. He apologized and stepped back."

"Well, that doesn't sound too bad."

"No, it doesn't," she agreed. "And if that had been all that happened, I wouldn't have any problems with him."

"What else happened?" Russ asked, as he put down his now empty beer bottle and shifted in his seat so that he was facing her.

"We were all getting along pretty good," she began after taking one last swallow of her beer. "So good in fact that we'd decided to go out to dinner. We were in the middle of it when Booth got a call from the office that he had to take. It was about important background information on the case we were working on. He decided to step away from the table so he could concentrate on it; I didn't think anything of it. It wasn't the first time it'd happened and it won't be the last. I also had no problem staying behind with Jared; he had proven to be an entertaining dining companion. He'd been telling me stories about Booth's childhood and I was riveted. Somehow, though, those stories started changing and not long after Booth excused himself, Jared started going on about how you could never depend on Booth to be there when you needed him because he always had something better to do – which almost always had to do with work and how ironic that was because as hard as he worked, he didn't seem to have gotten anywhere important. But how that didn't surprised him because Booth had always shot himself in the foot when it came to success; how he'd always been afraid of it and had thus sabotaged his own efforts. In short, he was telling me that Booth was a loser."

"Wow," was all Russ could think of to say when Brennan finished speaking. "That's . . . that's messed up. You don't talk like that about your brother – not to his girlfriend; not even if it's true."

"Which it's not," Brennan was quick to point out. "Booth is anything but a loser."

"I know that, Tempe," Russ assured him. "Booth's a great guy and I not only like him very much but I'm also glad you guys are together. So," he added, "what did you do? How hard did you hit him?"

"I didn't hit him," Brennan shook her head, laughing, "though, it was very tempting. But I knew Booth wouldn't like it, so I just squeezed his hand until he stopped talking . . ."

"Hey," Russ interrupted her, "I thought you said you didn't hurt him."

"No," Brennan smiled slyly as she shook her head, "I said 'I didn't hit him' not that I didn't hurt him."

Russ stared at her for a few seconds before he burst out laughing, "Only you, Tempe. Only you."

"Well," she defended herself, "that was the only way I could get a word in edgewise; the man wouldn't shut up!"

"What did you tell him when you finally managed to shut him up?" he asked, beyond interested now.

"I simply told him," she began, "that Booth had been my work partner for four years and we had been in a romantic relationship for the past six months and that there was no one that knew him as well as I did. That I had never met a more loyal, honest, respectful, dedicated and decent man in my life; that I was very, very lucky to have him in my life and that no one would ever make me think less of him – certainly, not a smarmy, good for nothing, immature, little twerp of a man who had an over inflated opinion of himself and who had to make others look bad before he could look good. That he should stop being a brat who threw tantrums when he didn't get his way and should learn from his older brother how to be a real man instead of spreading malicious gossip about him."

"Ouch," Russ grimaced, knowing what that speech would have done to any man's ego. "You do have a way with words, Tempe," he told her, shaking his head in wonder. "Just one thing," he added, "little twerp? Brat?" He asked, raising one eyebrow in question.

"That's what Angela called him when I told her about the pass he made at me," Brennan shrugged in answer.

"Of course," Russ nodded, grinning. "So, what did Booth say when you told him?"

"I didn't tell him," she told him, without looking away from the pool.

"I thought you told each other everything," Russ commented.

"We do," she insisted. "And if he ever asks, I'll tell him but I saw no need to let him know that his brother goes around bad mouthing him. He knows I don't like Jared and that the feeling is mutual but he's never asked for the particulars. And to give him credit, he's never pushed us to get along either."

"He sees his brother often?" Russ asked.

"Every few weeks," she answered. "He's stationed here in DC so they talk on the phone often and get together for drinks once in a while."

"And you never go with them?"

"No," she shook her head. "Booth asked me a couple times at the beginning but hasn't really mentioned it since then."

"So, why did you go to dinner with him last night?" Russ wanted to know.

"It was a celebratory dinner for Jared's newest promotion," Brennan said. "Booth wanted me to be there to help them celebrate. I think he might have thought it was a good time for me and Jared to put our differences aside."

"I guess it didn't really work, huh?" Russ guessed.

"No," she shook her head again. "Jared was the same sniveling, little weasel I met years ago. And this time he didn't even wait until Booth wasn't around before he started. He was subtle about it, made all his digs sound like jokes but the intent was still there. He's such a jerk," she finished under her breath.

"He really sounds like it," Russ agreed. "What does Booth say about it?"

"Nothing," Brennan sighed. "And I can't figure out if he doesn't really see it or if he does and purposely ignores it."

"Would he do that?" Russ asked, surprised. "He doesn't seem like the type of person that would hide or ignore anything – no matter how uncomfortable."

"He's not," she agreed, "usually. But everyone has a blind spot and family, the people he loves, is his."

"Yeah," Russ agreed. "Family is always the exception to everything, isn't it?"

"Yes," Brennan breathed out. "I guess it is. You know," she continued a few seconds later, thoughtfully, "when I first met Booth and for quite a while afterwards, I thought that of the two, I was the one that had had a rotten childhood. For most of my adult life I'd thought that being abandoned and sent into foster care was the worst thing that could happen to a child."

"You don't think that anymore?" Russ asked her, as he shifted on the lounge not really comfortable with the direction the conversation was once again taking.

"No," she answered. "I've since learned that being left behind is just one way to have a bad childhood and is not necessarily the worst."

"I take it Booth didn't have that good a childhood?" Russ took a shot in the dark, which wasn't such a long shot given the way the conversation had been going.

"No, he didn't," she granted and didn't say anything else. Russ was curious and wanted to ask for details but he knew his sister wouldn't say anything else. Brennan would never break anyone's confidence – especially Booth's.

"It's funny," he said a few moments later, "I'd have never thought that he'd had a difficult childhood. He's just so . . . put together, you know? Doesn't come off as someone with childhood issues."

"I know," she agreed. Booth always appeared well-adjusted and together to everyone; his aura of confidence and poise stopped everyone from delving any deeper into his psyche and he was so private that he never volunteered any information. It had taken Brennan years to find out anything about his childhood. It wasn't until after they'd been romantically involved for almost a year that Booth had finally started to open up; it had actually happened during one of his earlier attempts to get her to come with him to meet Jared for a drink. It had come in bits and pieces because, as she well knew, talking about the past was not always easy.

She was pretty sure she still didn't have all of pieces but she had enough to know that his childhood had been no Norman Rockwell painting. He'd lived in a house in the suburbs with a father, mother and younger brother but, like many things in life, that perfect image had been nothing but a façade.

The father was haunted by what he'd seen and done in the war and when the nightmares became too much, he sought refuge and oblivion at the bottom of a bottle. He hadn't been a violent drunk but abuse didn't have to be physical. When he'd been sober, he'd been a hands-on father, attentive to his kids and their needs, teaching them valuable life lessons and instilling in them his morals and values; that had only made his descent into the bottle that more jarring. And unfortunately, as the years went on, his nightmares increased and his dependency on alcohol kept pace with it.

Booth's mother had been a very traditional woman who had wholeheartedly embraced the 'man is the head of the household' mentality and thus been unable to function when her husband was 'indisposed'.

All of that had meant that by the tender age of 9, Booth had had to assume the responsibilities of running a household, responsibilities he should have known nothing about for at least another ten years, because neither parent had been able or prepared to do it. His innate sense of responsibility and duty wouldn't have let him do anything else.

His brother, however, had chosen another path. In an effort to recapture the attention of his father, he had started to act out. The longer his father spent in a stupor, the wilder Jared became and it was always Booth who would have to go and bail Jared out because their father was never able to shake his dependency.

Bailing Jared out became a habit that Booth hadn't quite been able to break yet. While Brennan didn't approve of Booth's continued acceptance of Jared's behavior, she understood how his childhood had only strengthened his already well-developed sense of responsibility and how it had made him believe he had to take care of everyone else – even at the expense of his own well being.

"He has his issues, though, like we all do," she told Russ a few moments later. "I just hate it when he's taken advantage of, you know? He's always so good at helping everyone else and he doesn't deserve to have his brother going around talking about him. He deserves so much better than that."

"Yes, he does," he agreed, solemnly. "But life is rarely fair, is it?"

"No, it's not," she said, sighing. She then turned to look at the pool where Booth was busy dunking three shrinking kids and couldn't help smiling at how happy he looked.

Russ followed her line of sight and, grinning, commented, "he looks pretty happy right now, though."

"Yes, he does," she nodded. "Fortunately, it doesn't take much to make him happy – a piece of pie, some time with Parker or a game of hockey and he's as happy as a clam. You know, that really is a dumb saying," she added after a pause, frowning in confusion. "Happy as a clam; what does that mean?"

"Who knows," Russ shrugged, grinning. "It's just a saying. I know something else that makes him really happy, though," he told her. When she looked at him in question, he explained what he meant, "being with you makes him happy."

"Being with him makes me happy," she said softly as she once again turned to gaze at Booth in the pool. She was looking at the FBI agent with such tenderness and love that Russ was struck by it.

"You know, Tempe," he told her after a few moments of silent debate, "I know you don't want nor need my opinion or blessing but I have to tell you that I was very glad and happy when you two finally decided to stop dancing around each other and accepted what everyone else had always seen." When she turned to look at him in surprise, he shrugged and continued.

"I know, I know," he said, raising his hands in a stop gesture. "It's been a few years since you two got together and you really don't need my approval but I've been meaning to say this for a while now. So, please let me, okay?" She gave a reluctant nod and he took a deep breath, taking a few seconds get the right words to say what he wanted to say.

"I know I haven't really been the best big brother," he shook his head before adding, "Who am I kidding? I haven't been any kind of brother for most of your life but regardless of what went on before, I'm here now. And it is my responsibility and prerogative as your big brother to worry about you. I want you to be happy, to feel safe and loved. And I know you have that with Booth. And yes, we all know you can take care of yourself," he said, preempting what he knew would be her protest.

"That doesn't change the fact that I'm happy Booth not only loves you but can also take care of you. What I really admire about him, though, and what I'm sure you love best about him, is that he knows you well enough to know when to let you take care of things yourself and when to step in front of you and take care of things himself. As much as I want you to be love and protected, I wouldn't want you to be with a man that would expect you to be less than who you are. But Booth _knows_ you; he knows who you really are – he _gets_ you and would never dream of asking you to be less than your best. He's man enough to not only accept but actually relish the fact that you can kick anyone's behind and are smarter than probably anyone you meet. I think he's one of the best men I know - if for no other reason that he accepts you for whom you truly are. I really am very glad you two are together. I think meeting each other is probably the best thing that happened to either of you."

Brennan stared at her brother, amazed at his insight. Before she could say anything, however, Hailey came running up to them, asking Russ to come with her to the kitchen. Apparently, none of the drinks Angela had brought out appealed to her. With a sheepish grin and shrug, Russ got up and allowed himself to be dragged by the hand into the house.

Bemused, Brennan watched them go until they disappeared inside the house. Once she couldn't see them any longer, she turned, once more, to the pool - only to find that Booth was looking right at her. He was frowning, silently asking her if everything was alright. She smiled and nodded to let him know that everything was just fine. He responded with a wink and what Angela called his 'Bones Smile'. It was his charm smile but it was permeated with all the love and tenderness Booth felt for Brennan. And it never failed to melt her.

_cuando me miras asi/ when you look at me like this  
perdido estoy/ lost I am  
cuando me miras asi/ when you look at me like this  
contigo voy/ with you__ I go  
que puedo hacer?/ what can I do? __  
tus ojos son/ your eyes are  
el iman de mi corazon/ the magnet to my heart_

Though she knew it was physiologically impossible, whenever he looked at her like that she felt as if butterflies took taken residence in her belly, her heart had jumped into her throat and she lost herself in the dark depths of his eyes. For those few moments, it was as if the world narrowed down and only the two of them existed. For someone that had never bought into the whole 'getting lost in each other's eyes', the almost vertigo-like feeling had been more than a little disconcerting at first, with time, however, she'd learned to love it and now she relied on it. In an odd way, she'd begun to believe that she was never more herself than during those moments when she lost herself in him – in them.

Whenever he looked at her like that, she forgot that she had never been content to follow anyone, anywhere. That she had, in fact, insisted on going her own way for most of her life, and whether others had chosen to follow her or not had never been of importance to her. What had mattered to her had been that she be free to go her own way; she had rarely ever asked for advice because she had been convinced that no one could know what was best for her better than her. But Booth had changed all that. He had given his opinion, had pushed and prodded her from the start, whether she had asked his advice or not. And slowly, without her realizing she was doing it, she had not only begun to depend on that advice but had actively sought it out. And now, she rarely made a decision without talking to him about it.

It wasn't that she couldn't make decisions on her own, it was just that talking to him before making those decisions made her see things from perspectives she would have ignored previously. She had actually had a minor break down when she realized just how much she was depending on his opinions before making any decisions until both Sweets and Angela made her see that talking things out with your significant other was nothing to be worried about. It was, in fact, something completely normal and healthy; something most people looked for.

And who cared if sometimes when he turned that gaze on her she thought that she would follow him to the ends of the Earth just as long as he kept looking at her like that? She knew, without asking, that he would follow her anywhere and everywhere. Because, she had finally realized, that was what two people in love did – they followed each other. They couldn't do anything else – they were like the two different ends of a magnets, always pulling towards each other.

_cuando me miras asi/ when you look at me like this  
completo estoy/ complete I am  
cuando me miras asi/ when you look at me like this  
yo se quien soy/ I know who I am  
no pido mas es lo mejor/ I don't ask for more, it's the best  
eres el angel luz de mi amor/ you're the angel light of my love_

"Dr. Bones," Parked called out, waving at her from the pool and distracting her from her thoughts. "What you doing?"

"Sunbathing," she answered, smiling.

"Come play with us," he invited, smiling and motioned for her to join them in the pool.

"In a minute," she called back. "Just let me finish my drink first," she explained, waving the bottle when he started to pout.

"Promise?" he asked, looking at her from eyes just like Booth's.

"I promise," she told him solemnly. He gave her his own version of a 'Bones Smile' and another piece of her heart melted.

"Good," he said before going back to play in the pool.

"He's going to hold you to it, you know?" Booth asked her with a twinkle in his eyes.

"I know," she nodded. With a wink, he followed his son and went back to play. Brennan smiled as he saw the two Booth guys in her life frolicking in the water.

Everyone had known that Parker had inherited Booth's 'Charm Smile' but it had been Angela that had first noticed that he also had his own 'Bones Smile'. When she'd told Brennan about it, the artist had gushed and been all excited about it. Brennan had at first denied it but Angela had insisted and had then recommended that Brennan did what she does best and investigate the issue.

Brennan had been unable to resist and had began to pay more attention to Parker. When she finally confirmed what Angela had told suggested, her eyes had teared up. If anyone had told her five years ago that she would get emotional because an eight year old had a special smile for her, she'd have told them they were crazy. But here she was, completely in love not only with Booth but with his son. She shook her head as she thought of the ironic twists life could sometimes take; about how sometimes unexpected changes could have unanticipated and long-lasting consequences that fundamentally shifted our views of ourselves and our identities.

Even though she had been born Joy Keenan, she had no recollection of that time; as far as she was concerned, growing up she had been Temperance Brennan, Matthew and Christine's daughter and Russ' younger sister. Whatever else she'd been, her identity as a child had been wrapped up in those relationships and when her parents had disappeared and her brother had left a few weeks later, she had ceased to know exactly who she was.

Her life underwent a drastic change when her family left her behind; she became an orphan who no longer had a home but was instead part of the system. She went from having a stable home with loving parents to being constantly moved from home to home with all of her belongings able to fit in two garbage bags. The trauma of losing all she knew in practically one go affected more than her lifestyle, it had changed who she was, how she saw life; and in many ways, she stopped being a child the day her parents left. And she stopped letting people get close to her.

Some of the families that took her in were good families and might have offered her something resembling family life if she'd let them but she didn't. At first it was because she was sure her parents would come back for her at any moment and then later, it was because she knew they weren't coming back and she wasn't going to let anyone else have the chance to hurt her again. So, she closed herself off from everyone, retreated into her studies and as soon as she could, she left the system to start off on her own.

When she was granted a full scholarship to Northwestern, she took it and never looked back. She began college determined to make something of her self, to create a new identity, one that was on her terms and which would depend on no one but herself. She would never again define who she was in terms of other people and risk being devastated and having her world crumbled beneath her if and when she was once again left alone. The distance between her and the rest of the world that she had begun to develop while in the system, was perfected while she was in college and, with the exception of Angela who was always there, the few people who got close to breaching that distance in the end only reinforced the need for it.

Before long, she'd become a world-renown anthropologist, the best in her field, whose opinions were sought after and respected. Whenever she entered a room, people took notice and when she spoke, people listened; she was no longer another statistic or troubled youth in the system, but a valued professional, who had earned her place in the scientific community.

Her success also ensured that her belongings no longer fit in a couple of garbage bags but, while she established Washington DC as her base, she was still leery of the idea of permanency and preferred to travel all over the world rather than stay too long in the city. Angela might not have agreed, but Dr. Temperance Brennan thought she had everything she needed and wanted in life and if she wasn't exactly happy with her life, she was content, satisfied with it but most of all, she felt safe.

But then she met Booth and life as she'd known had been over.

At first, she'd thought that he was one of the most arrogant, self-centered, densest men she'd ever had the misfortunate to meet and she hadn't trusted him as far as she could throw him, which given his musculature wouldn't have been very far at all. He had disconcerted her so much that she had ignored one of her most important rules and jumped to conclusions about who he was before she actually had all the evidence in.

She still couldn't believe that she'd done it but done it she had and as a result, Booth had been able to surprise her again and again. He had also been able to get past all of what she had thought had been her impenetrable defenses. And before she knew it and without her conscious decision, he'd gone from being someone she had to put up with, to being her partner, to being her best friend, confidant, the person she trusted most in the world.

When they found her mother's remains and her brother came back into her life and they discovered that her parents hadn't been who she'd always thought they were and her identity had once again been ripped from her, it had been him she had turned to. He had hugged her and comforted her and told her that everything would be alright. And when she hadn't been sure she knew who she was anymore, he had assured her that he did; that he knew who she was, that she was still the same person she'd always been and if she ever had any doubts about it, all she had to do was look at him and he'd remind her that she still was and would always be 'Bones'.

It was in that moment that she'd realized her identity had changed once more; she had gone from being Dr. Temperance Brennan to being Dr. Temperance 'Bones' Brennan. She was no longer just the logical, cool scientist that saw life through her anthropological glasses; she was no longer just an unbiased observer but became a participant. She discovered that being 'Bones' meant that she had more than work in her life, she had friends and family; she had a social life and no longer spent all her time stuck in the lab or traveling around the world from dig to dig.

It was ironic that, despite how easily and often she lost herself in Booth's eyes, it was in his eyes that she finally found herself. It was by knowing him, by seeing herself reflected in his eyes, that she found that piece of herself she'd locked away when her parents and Russ left. It was by being with him that she was finally complete; that she finally became the woman she was meant to be. She still wasn't sure how he did it and though she was pretty sure she wouldn't have done it without him, she found that she couldn't regret it because she was happier than she had ever thought possible. She'd have never asked or even dreamt of having someone like Booth in her life but for whatever reason, she had him and she couldn't really ask for anyone better to share her life with.

"Come on, Dr. Bones," an insisting Parker called her, once again distracting her from her thoughts . "Aren't you done with your drink yet?"

Brennan smiled as she saw how the little boy was practically bouncing in the water in his efforts to get her to join them. With one last look at the little over a quarter of the bottle she still had left, she decided to go join in the fun. She put the beer bottle down and stood up, grinning.

"Yes, I'm all done," she answered Parker as she walked towards the pool. "Here I come!" she warned him before cannon balling into the pool, making Parker and Amy laugh.

She came out of the water grinning but before she could say anything, Booth dragged her back down. "Booth!!" she started to yelp but wasn't able to finish it before she was submerged once more. When she emerged that time, Parker and Emma were still laughing their heads off and Brennan fake-growled, "oh, you think that's funny, do you?" When they nodded, she launched towards them to dunk them but they shrieked and tried to swim away from her.

All the adults left on the deck grinned at the laughter and shouts coming from the pool; everyone happy to see the kids having so much fun and to see the indomitable Dr. Brennan relaxing and enjoying for once. The joyful sound also brought Russ and Hailey out from the house in a hurry. When Hailey saw Emma and Parker playing with Booth and Brennan, she started to giggle and ran to join in the pool.

"You coming Dad?" she asked as she jumped in.

"Yeah, Dad, come in," came from Emma while Parker called out, "Yeah, Uncle Russ come on in."

Russ grinned at Booth and Brennan, who grinned back. "Why not?" he asked before he toed off his flip-flops and jumped in.

The next two hours were spent playing every water game they could think of, in a variety of teams: boys v. girls, adults v. kids, and even squints v. non-squints. For the last team Parker actually chose to be on Brennan's team as opposed to his dad's, something which made Booth pout quite a bit.

When Max finally called them all out to eat, they were more than ready for a break. As the afternoon and evening progressed and they ate, laughed, played and basically enjoyed being with each other, Brennan once again thought about how much her life had changed in the last few years and how it had all began with her meeting Booth.

_en ti puedo ver la libertad/ in you I can see freedom  
tu me haces sentir que puedo volar/ you make me feel like I can fly  
y se que aqui es mi lugar/ and I know that here is my place  
y se que a ti yo quiero amar/ and I know that you I want to love  
cuando tu me miras asi/when you look at me like this  
cuando tu me miras asi/ when you look at me like this  
no hace falta nada mas/ there's no need for anything else  
solo ganas siento de amar/ I only feel desire to love _

For most of her adult life, Brennan had avoided making any romantic commitment not only because of her fear of abandonment but also because she had equated making a commitment with losing her freedom and that was something she swore she'd never let happen. Being with Booth, however, had shown her that committing yourself to the person you loved did not mean that you lost your freedom but that it could, in fact, be very liberating.

Booth believed in her more than anyone else had ever done in her life, sometimes he believed in her more than she did. Just knowing that there was someone in her life that believed in her that much and who would always be there for her gave her the freedom to open herself up to things she'd have never considered before. Because _he_ believed she could do anything she set her mind to, she found that she could.

Further, she'd come to the conclusion, much to her surprise, that you didn't have to be alone to have your freedom because being free didn't necessarily mean that you could do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted with whomever you wanted. Being free meant that you were honest with yourself, that you were true to yourself; it meant that nothing held you back from pursuing your happiness. Some people were happy being alone and that was fine but Brennan hadn't really been one of them.

She hadn't shied from commitment because she was happier by herself, she'd shied away from it because of her past. Her past had, in a very real sense, been a prison; the issues she'd carried from it had imposed limits on how she'd lived and had taken away her freedom to choose what she wanted in life. Because she'd been trying to avoid being hurt like she was hurt as a child, she'd been stuck behaving in a pattern that hadn't allowed her to experience life at its fullest.

It had taken Booth, with his constant presence, to make her realize how much freedom there was in loving someone and in being loved by that person; before him, she hadn't realized just how freeing it was to know that no matter what you did or what you said or how the world might crumble beneath you, the person you love would always be there. She hadn't known how comforting it was to know that come hell or high water, he would come when you called just because it was you that was calling and there was nothing he wouldn't do for you. Knowing in your heart, without having to think about it, without any doubt or hesitation that the person you love would always be there, would always have your back and would even die for you was the most liberating feeling there was. It was so liberating that sometimes when she was looking into his eyes, she almost felt as if she could fly – as illogical and silly and implausible as that sounded.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Booth asked, as he sat down next to her on the porch swing and pulled her to his side to cuddle with her.

"A penny?" Brennan asked with a smirk. "I'm a genius; don't you think my thoughts should be more expensive than that?"

"Umm, maybe," he agreed with a grin. "But this is me, the man you love. Are you really going to charge me?"

"I wasn't the one that mentioned payment in return for information," she told him haughtily.

"Ah, yeah," he nodded. "I might have shot myself in the foot there."

"Yes, well," she said. "You are a little trigger happy, aren't you?"

"Me?" he asked, looking at her in disbelief. "I'm not the one that bought a gun that she could barely shoot."

"You wouldn't give me a gun," she protested. "What was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know," he replied with a shrug. "Maybe have a little faith in me and believe you won't need a gun because _I'm_ your gun and I'll always be there to protect you?" Though he said it in jest and with a slight smile, Brennan turned to look at him seriously.

"I have faith in you, Booth," she told him earnestly. "I've never believed in anyone more in my life. I hope you know that."

"I do, Bones, of course I do," he assured her pulling her in closer for a soft kiss. When they pulled back, he smiled at her and tucked her hair behind her ear before stroking her cheek. "So," he said sometime later after they'd cuddled again. "What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing really," she shrugged. "I was just thinking how nice it was to have everyone together like this. It's not that often that we can get everyone in one room; especially Russ and the girls."

"Yeah," he agreed. "It's not easy with them living in another state." She nodded and they fell silent again.

"Booth?" she asked softly a few moments later.

"Ummm," he said, as the swing moved gently back and forth.

"I've never said 'thank you' have I?"

"Thank you?" he repeated, pulling back a bit to look down at her. "What for?"

"For being you," she said seriously, turning her face up to look him in the eye. "For always being there for me, for never giving up, for always knowing the right thing to say, for knowing what I need even before I do . . . for loving me and for just being you," she repeated.

"Bones," he said after a few seconds of silence as he tenderly cupped her cheek. "You don't have to thank me for any of that. Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done and being there for you is not a chore but something I enjoy doing. Being with you Bones, is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I thank God every day for having met you and having you in my life."

"I too am grateful for you, Booth, more than I can say," she told him, smiling gently at him. After giving him another kiss, she rested her head on his shoulder and threw her arm across his torso as they settled down and turned to look at the kids playing in the grass.

Brennan might not believe in God like Booth did but she rather thought that if He did exist then He must have being smiling at her the day He decided to blessed her by sending Booth to her. Meeting Booth was the point where her life changed – in more ways than she'd have ever thought possible. She still wasn't sure what she'd done to deserve him if she'd even done anything, it might be that God, the universe, fate or whatever entity governed life had simply just wanted to make up for all the hurts in her past, but whatever the reason for him being in her life, he was hers now and she wasn't giving him up.

Unlike Booth, love did not come easy to her and loving him had not been the easiest thing she'd ever done but it was the most right and it had been the most natural thing she'd ever done and she would do everything in her power to make sure he knew how much she loved him, to make him happy and to make sure he'd never leave because she'd finally found the one place she belonged: at his side. For the first time since she was fifteen years old, she had a home and that was wherever Booth happened to be and she would fight with everything in her to keep it.

No, she might not have Booth's faith in an almighty but she was smart enough to realize that she'd been given a gift – and this was one gift she would not be returning. Booth might say she was the best thing to happen to him but she knew that he had always been her saving grace.

------

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines Grace as the following:

1 a**:** unmerited divine assistance given humans for their regeneration or sanctification b**:** a virtue coming from God c**:** a state of sanctification enjoyed through divine grace

2 a**:** approval, favor b**:** mercy, pardon c**:** a special favor **:** privilege d**:** disposition to or an act or instance of kindness, courtesy, or clemency e**:** a temporary exemption **:** reprieve

3 a**:** a charming or attractive trait or characteristic b**:** a pleasing appearance or effect **:** charm c**:** ease and suppleness of movement or bearing

4 a**:** sense of propriety or right b**:** the quality or state of being considerate or thoughtful


	8. Point of Divergence

**Points in Between: Point of Divergence **

**Disclaimer: **Nope, not mine. Just playing with them.

**A/N: **I am soooo sorry it has taken so long to write and post this one shot. I meant to have it done sooner but well, musie is a capricious creature plus, I've been a bit disillusioned with the way the show has been going, so I wasn't that inspired to write. Still, I persevered and finally got this one done!!! It's somewhat different than my usual but as you know, I'm using these one shots to try different things - to challenge myself and explore different styles. Hopefully, you'll see what I mean when you finish reading it. I should give you fair warning though, this is one angsty fic. I'll say more at the end cause I don't want to ruin it. Timeline wise, this story comes about four months after the last one and about five months before Breaking Point. As always, I want to thank Puppet for all her beta work and all her help bouncing ideas back and forth. I also want to thank Kerrie for her encouragement and all those that read, review or even just put me on an alert list. Those emails always make me feel very good and make me want to write faster. Oh, before I forget the song is Matchbox 20's 'If You're Gone'

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The cool rain that had fallen steadily all day and through the evening had driven down the already cool autumn temperatures; it had given the streets of DC a gloomy, gray cast and had created puddles of water that splashed pedestrians and cars alike. The chilly, dreary, rainy, gloomy night was also a perfect match for Booth's mood, who was gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white as he navigated the late evening Downtown traffic.

Booth had stayed at work a couple of hours later than usual. Even though they had just closed a case and no new cases had come his way, he had delayed leaving the office because he hadn't wanted to face going home. Instead he'd tried to get a jump on the paperwork but he was so preoccupied that his concentration was shot. Once he realized that that he hadn't even gone through a quarter of the pile of paperwork he had wanted to get through, he'd given up and decided to go on home. After all, if he was going to brood, he might as well do it comfortably: in his home, wearing sweats and drinking scotch.

As always, the rain made traffic heavier than it should have been and it would take him almost twice as long to get home as it usually did. He'd spent the extra time alternatively cursing the other drivers and the weather and mulling over the reason for his current dark mood: the fight he'd had with Bones earlier that morning.

No matter how many times he thought it over, however, he still couldn't figure out what the fight had been about in the end or how it had escalated to the point that it had. One moment they'd been having breakfast and enjoying the sunny day and the next they were barely speaking to each other as they looked for umbrellas and raincoats because the weatherman had all of a sudden changed the forecast from sunny skies to sporadic thunderstorms.

He sighed as he saw a woman run into a building to escape from the sudden downpour. The action reminded him of how Brennan was constantly running to hide whenever there was any hint that their relationship was becoming more emotionally intimate. She'd always run from strong emotions; he'd known that going in but it had been a long time since she reacted as strongly as she had that morning. For the first time since they'd become a couple, Booth was actually wondering whether this was it – whether this was the end of the line for them. And he was terrified to find the answer because he was almost sure the answer would be yes.

_I think I've already lost you  
I think you're already gone  
I think I'm finally scared now  
You think I'm weak - but I think you're wrong_

He loved her, God knew he did, but at times loving her was damned exhausting. She was just so complicated, intense . . . and demanding. Sometimes, for half a second he almost wished that he had fallen for someone that wasn't so complicated, so intense – so damned demanding. But it never lasted longer than half a second because he knew himself well enough to know that he wouldn't be half as captivated, half as fascinated if she _wasn't_ so . . . complex. Not that she would ever agree to being demanding (the other two adjectives she'd probably accept without too much argument); she would ask, how could she be demanding, when she never asked for anything. While that was true, that was also the very fact that made her so demanding.

Bones rarely asked for anything but she also rarely shared anything of a personal nature; her need to feel safe meant she'd perfected the art of keeping others at a distance and it demanded a lot of effort, time and work from anyone that cared for her. She wasn't an easy person to know or to get along with and, despite the fact that Booth and the squints would do anything for her she also wasn't an easy person to love. And yet, Booth loved her; more than that, she was the love of his life. And at times he wasn't sure whether he loved her despite her being complicated, demanding and intense or because she was all those things.

In the end, he guessed it didn't really matter; the fact was that he loved her and that he could no longer imagine his life without her. Nor could he imagine going back to being just friends and partners. He'd been able to make do with that kind of relationship before but not anymore; not after having been with her and knowing what it was like to be able to hug her, kiss her, love her whenever he wanted (within reason). How could he go back to what they had before when he now knew what it was like to have her face be the last thing he saw every night and the first thing he saw every morning?

He couldn't and if that meant that he wasn't modern enough, sophisticated enough, evolved enough, he was more than okay with that. He knew that he had definite alpha tendencies and he'd made his peace with that, though, he didn't consider this particular reaction to be one of his more alpha ones. He didn't believe you could be anything more than friendly acquaintances with your exes, despite what anyone might claim, not when the relationship had been as complicated and passionate as his relationship with Bones. And he had his relationship with Rebecca as an example.

Bones, however, was the queen of rationalization; if anyone could convince herself that they could go back to being best friends and partners, it was her. And if she got scared enough, insecure enough she might very well convince herself that that would be best for them. The fact that it wouldn't work, that she would not be able to go back to seeing him as a friend only (not that she had ever really done that) wouldn't even occur to her. That was what had had his stomach in a knot all day; the knowledge that if she wanted, Bones was more than capable of calling it quits. And the fact was that while he wouldn't quite say she had a foot out the door, it did feel like she had her hand on the doorknob and was ready to open said door.

With a curse, Booth slowed down some more. The rain was falling down even harder and he could barely see anything beyond the car's headlights; it was falling so hard that the street lights were barely illuminating a few feet beyond them. The darkness of night suddenly felt oppressive and he had to shake his head to dispel the depressive mood he'd been fighting all day but which was beginning to tighten its hold on him. He just couldn't understand how they'd gotten to this place; he'd been sure they'd been going somewhere - they'd been building something that would last. He'd been sure they'd been building a future together and now, he no longer knew what to think.

_  
I think you're already leaving  
Feels like your hand is on the door  
I thought this place was an empire  
But now I'm relaxed - I can't be sure_

If he didn't love her so damn much, if he didn't understand why she acted the way she did, he might think her cruel or even cold. But he did understand her; he knew exactly why she could think that it would be better to stop their relationship. He knew that she would only be trying to protect herself and that in her mind she would also be trying to protect him.

What she couldn't seem to understand was that he neither wanted nor needed her to protect him – not when it came to this, not when it was herself she was protecting him from. The only way he could be hurt by their relationship was if it were to end because the only thing he needed to be happy was to have her at his side. He'd been trying to tell her and show her how important she was in general and how much she meant to him in particular since practically the moment they met.

Because he knew her past and how distrustful of emotions it had left her, he had been patient and understanding. He'd reassured her again and again, both subtly and overtly about his feelings for her and about her worth first as a partner, then as her best friend and finally as her lover. He'd thought he'd finally gotten through to her; he'd thought she'd finally understood how much he needed her. In the last three years, she'd seemed to have finally moved forward, to put the past to rest – at least, as much as anyone can put the past to rest.

_  
_He just wished he could figure out what happened to make her scare again. Things had seemed to be going so well lately; except for their usual bickering, they hadn't had a real fight in months. Even the bickering hadn't been as bad as it had sometimes been. There just hadn't been anything that he could think of that would make her want to run again. And despite having been sure he and Bones had been settled into a comfortable relationship for over three years, he'd still been acutely aware of anything that could potentially spook her. After all, habits developed over a number of years were not easy to forgo.

Of course, assuming he'd know what would upset her would mean he knew how her mind worked. But as much as he knew her, as much as he understood her, he also knew that there was quite a bit about her he didn't know and would probably never really understand. One reason for that was the fundamentally different ways each one looked at things; while Booth almost always went with his gut, Bones had to think and re-think things a couple of thousand times from every possible angle before acting.

He'd claimed from the beginning that her over-thinking was a pain in the ass and that it would one day be the death of him. And he'd been proven right again and again but there was nothing he could do but try and deal with it because that was the way she was. The only thing he could really do was try and argue his point of view, actually show her what he meant and then just wait her out, there was nothing else to do.

_  
I think you're so mean - I think we should try  
I think I could need - this in my life  
I think I'm just scared - I think too much  
I know this is wrong it's a problem I'm dealing  
_

Booth sighed as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel, shifted on his seat and slowed down even more though he was already going at a slighter faster pace than a snail, the time of night and the horrible weather prevented him from going any faster. Not that he particularly wanted to get home any faster - that's why he'd left work a couple of hours earlier than usual. In a way, he was almost glad for the rain and the delay that it caused because the last thing he wanted right then was to walk into a cold, lonely, empty house and without Bones in there, the house would feel completely hollow.

He was no longer used to spending the night, or even any length of downtime, by himself. He could barely remember the last time they spent the night apart, at least when it was by choice. Six months ago, she'd gone to S. America for a week to help on a dig and three months before that, he had to go out of town for three days for a court appearance on a case he'd settled some time ago. Both times had been hard on the battle-toughened agent; he was too used to going to bed with her next to him and to wake up with her in his arms and had felt her absence keenly.

The three days he spent out of town were slighter easier than the week he stayed behind, not only because it was half the time but because there had been nothing that reminded him of her in the hotel room. Of course, the week Bones was out of town, he had opted to stay over at her place because despite the fact that having her things around him reminded him of her, it also comforted him. He snorted as he realized that Bones would look completely baffled at the inherit contradiction of his thoughts and would claim that he was being beyond illogical. That was probably true but no one ever claimed that love was logical. And loving Bones might just be the most illogical, irrational thing he had ever done in his life.

And yet, he didn't know what he would do without her in his life. Just the thought of walking into his apartment, knowing she wouldn't be there was enough to tighten the knot in his stomach and to have his heart jump into his throat. He blinked his eyes and scowled at the dark streets outside the windshield, deciding that being annoyed was better than being depressed. He much preferred wanting to punch a wall than wanting to curl into a little ball and bawl his eyes out.

For half a second, as he passed the turn that would take him to Bones' apartment, he considered going there but he dismissed it almost at once. In the three plus years they'd been together, they had developed an unspoken system as to where they would spend the nights. It had come into place within six months of their getting together and by then, it was pretty much settled in stone. They alternated between both places and that night they were supposed to be at his place. Showing up at her place would mean he was acknowledging that there was something wrong and he didn't really want to do that yet.

Though most of him was sure she wouldn't be waiting for him at his place, a little part of him was hoping that she would be there and going by her place would be squashing that little part. Call him a hopeless optimistic, but he wasn't going to admit defeat until he absolutely had to. That, however, didn't mean that he didn't dread reaching home. He knew that though his apartment usually felt cozy enough, and he'd complained about it being too small for two persons more than a few times, tonight it would feel as big and empty as an abandoned warehouse – it would feel just as lonely too.

And yet, despite the fact that his place would feel immense, he had the feeling that it was going to feel like a prison. He just knew that all that space was only going to serve to remind him of all the things he was on the verge of losing and he couldn't imagine how he was ever going to relax enough to find the solace of sleep when breathing regularly was taking a conscious effort on his part.

How could she ever think about ending what they had? He wondered for what felt like the millionth time. They had so much going for them; they had been so happy these last few years that even the idea that they could lose all of it was more than he could wrap his mind around and he just couldn't understand how she could even contemplate it for a second. They both had invested just as much in the relationship; they had both given it their all and the idea of it ending should have been just as paralyzing, just as terrifying to both of them.

_  
If you're gone - maybe it's time to come home  
There's an awful lot of breathing room  
But I can hardly move  
If you're gone - baby you need to come home  
Cuz there's a little bit of something me  
In everything in you  
_

The glare of headlights in his eyes made Booth blink and look around him and he suddenly realized that he had no clue how he'd gotten to where he was. He would have sworn that he was at least five blocks behind where he actually was. He shook his head and straightened his posture on his seat, instructing himself to pay attention to his driving. Zoning out while driving was an excellent way to get oneself killed and, with or without Bones, he had too much to live for to be that careless. It was a measure of how much the situation with Bones had gotten to him that he'd driven about a mile without any consciousness of it; he was usually a very good driver and getting lost in his own mind rarely happened to him – at all. That was more of a Bones thing.

And there he went, thinking about her again. Thinking about her was not an unusual thing but it had been a long time since he'd thought about her to the exclusion of almost everything else for such a long time. Not since right before they admitted their feelings for each other had he thought so obsessively about her. Loving Bones had been such a big part of his life for such a long time that the idea of her not being there had shaken the very foundation of his life.

He honestly couldn't envision how his life would continue if they were no longer together. Whatever she might think, he knew they couldn't continue as partners and not working with her would be just as much a blow as not being a couple. She had had so much influence in his life, it was almost impossible to come up with any scenario that she wasn't a part of.

She was the love of his life, how could he ever get over her? Was it even possible to get over the love of your life? Or would he be damned to spend the rest of his days without her light to his darkness? Without her there to remind him that he was a good man but only a man after all, his demons would be that much harder to beat back because despite her usual social awkwardness, she had become the one thing that was able to illuminate all the shadowy corners of his soul.

But as much as he needed her, he knew she needed him just as much. If she was the one person able to brighten up his heart, then he was the one person that created the bridge that allowed Bones to move back and forth from the academic world to the 'real' world. Without Booth, Bones was very likely to lose herself in figures, facts, theories and what not. Booth knew it and he was sure Bones herself knew it. And that might very well be the reason why she was acting this way.

If there was one thing that could be said about Bones it was that she didn't like to depend on anyone but herself; she needed to be independent and self-sufficient to feel safe and though, she'd gotten much more comfortable with the idea of needing Booth, it wasn't surprising that she might still be struggling with it. Her past had left deep scars in her psyche and those scars were the most likely to flare up when least expected.

Sighing morosely, he wondered if he would always be fighting the ghosts of Bones' past, if they would always rear up to bite him in the ass just as he convinced himself they'd been finally put to rest. He then snorted to himself as he remembered that there might no longer be an 'always' for him and Bones. The ghosts might have very well won their private war; Bones' fears and insecurities might have won out at last.

He only wished that he could figure out what had gone wrong, what had made her react as she hadn't since they first got together. Maybe if he could figure out what had happened he could somehow find a way to fix it, maybe he'd be able to convince her that what they had was too important and she should give it another chance. And when a small voice in the back of his head asked just how long he could go on always wondering if there was something wrong with her and how he could fix it, he very firmly ignored it.

_  
I bet you're hard to get over  
I bet the room just won't shine  
I bet my hands I can stay here  
I bet you need - more than you mind_

He couldn't believe the thought had crossed his mind to begin with; it not only felt like a betrayal of their love but it also felt like giving up and Booth was not a man to give up – not when something really mattered to him. If he didn't give up when it came to getting that last point in a hockey game, why would he give up on Bones when she was one of the most important things in his life?

If she could only really and truly finally believe that, things would be very different. If she could accept that he needed her just as much as she needed him, she might not be so scared of the strength of her feelings for him. She'd been doing so well in dealing with all her anxieties and hang ups; she'd also began to find it easier to relate to other people and he'd like to believe that had been his influence. But it seemed like the ghosts of the past were stronger than his influence, after all.

The worst part was that he knew all about her past; he knew exactly what he'd been fighting and how hard a fight it had been. And because he knew all that, he knew just how probable it was that her past would win. Maybe if he didn't know all he knew, he might not be so worried, so scared; but he did know and he was terrified.

And this time, it wouldn't just be her that would be affected; this time her giving in to her flight instinct would mean that Booth was the one left behind. But what was worse, at least from Booth's perspective, was the fact that Parker would also be left behind.

Parker had met Bones early on in their partnership and though they'd gotten along fairly well, but when Booth and Bones began their romantic relationship, the two began to spend a lot of time together and became very close. She'd become a de facto third parent; even if she would never think to describe herself like that, he would and he had added her name to Parker's list of emergency contacts. Parker not only liked her, he loved her, depended on her; she'd become someone he looked up to, someone he turned to when he needed answers or comfort. She'd played with him, laughed with him; held him when he'd cried because of a skinned knee or when he'd woken up from a bad dream. The sudden absence of her in his life would leave a big void in the little boy's existence – almost as big as the void it would leave on his father's life.

That thought, the thought of all the pain and uncertainty that his little boy would go through, broke Booth's heart. Parker was too young to understand what was going on, to understand why she wouldn't be around anymore and, as was human nature, he would probably wonder if it was something he'd done that drove her away. And no matter how much Booth would reassure him that he'd done nothing wrong, Parker might always wonder in a small part of his mind if he had done something. And _that_ thought made the tight knot of sadness and anxiety turn into a tight knot of anger and resentment.

'How dare she do this?' he wondered with a frown. She knew what having a paternal figure walk out of your life with no notice did to a child – she _knew_ because she'd lived it and she was seriously going to do the same thing to Parker? A child she'd proclaimed she loved as if he was her own? How could she even think about doing it? Booth could understand and even forgive the pain he would go through but thinking about the pain his son would go through made him see red. Thinking about his son feeling the same confused mix of feelings Booth himself was feeling was enough to finally break through the depression that had gripped him all day.

He embraced the anger, once again deciding that feeling like you wanted to punch something was a hundred times better than feeling like crawling into a corner and crying your eyes out. But the feeling didn't last long as the weather turned even worse and a gust of wind rocked the SUV hard enough that Booth had to tighten his grip on the steering wheel even more and sit forward on his seat as he squinted out of the windshield. He had to scold himself, again, for getting distracted; it was never a good idea to not pay attention while driving especially when the weather was so bad.

He was just glad that it wasn't the middle of winter or instead of driving during a bad thunderstorm, he'd be driving through a Nor'easter and he didn't really need that. If he thought Parker would have a hard time with the absence of Bones in his life, his son would have more than a hard time if his father were to get into an accident because he had been to distracted to pay attention to what he was doing.

_  
I think you're so mean - I think we should try  
I think I could need - this in my life  
I think I'm just scared - that I know too much  
I can't relate and that's a problem I'm feeling_

With a heavy sigh, he tried to wipe his mind of all the fear and anger he'd been feeling and concentrate solely on his driving. Unfortunately, despite the atrocious weather conditions, it didn't keep his full attention for long. With every mile that went by, no matter how slowly it did so, he got closer and closer to his destination and the thought of what awaited him there, his cold and empty apartment, was enough to once again play havoc with his concentration.

He did not want to arrive to an empty apartment and he was more than half tempted to turn around and head towards Bones' place. Only the thought of driving another half an hour in the torrential rain and, most of all, the thought of what she would say if he were to show up at her place unannounced stopped him from heading there. And the fact was that she was supposed to be at his place, damn it. They had an understanding and if anyone was going to break it, it was going to be her and not him. He was _not_ going to be showing up at her place on the night they were to meet at his. He was _not_ going to give in first; he was done being the one that went running after her whenever something spooked her. He had done enough of it already and he was tired of it.

At least for that night, he was tired of it, he conceded with a sigh. Tomorrow would be another day and if the night ahead turned out to be as bad as he was imagining, then chances were he would be going out to look for her. He loved her and, despite feeling dispirited and tired at the moment, he really wasn't ready to give up on them. The fact that he could feel that time was coming was something he preferred not to think about. He had enough problems and he already hurt enough to even contemplate going there.

When out of nowhere, the idea of calling her and demanding that she show up at his place sprung to him, he could do nothing but scoff and shake his head. Just the idea of demanding anything of Bones was hilarious; she never gave in to demands and never did anything she didn't want to do. No one knew that better than him; you could ask, you could cajole, you could reason with her – you could not demand, that was the one sure way (well one of the sure ways) to get her to do the exact opposite. Thinking about Parker must have put some funny ideas in his head; though God knew his life would sure be much simpler if he could order Bones around the same way he did Parker.

But just like the annoyance, the anger and the concentration on driving that had come before it, the amusement the last thought brought was very short lived and so was the distraction it provided. Nothing could really take his mind away from the empty apartment that was waiting for him. Especially when he realized that he was less than half a block away from it.

His commute had taken him more than twice the time it normally did and he still wasn't ready to get there. But there was nothing else he could, short of continuing driving, because he was finally home. And, though he was very tempted to just keep on going, he knew that wasn't the solution. Nor was it a realistic choice; not if he wanted to end the night in one, relatively whole, piece. He wasn't in any shape to continue driving; frankly, he was thankful that he'd made it without getting into any accidents.

Suddenly, he was there. He parked in his usual spot; turned the ignition off and took out the key. For a moment he just sat there, listening to the rain pounding the hood of the SUV and staring with unseeing eyes as the rain buffeted the windshield and trees that lined his street. With a soft sigh, he let his head fall on the steering wheel a few moments later before he pushed back and rubbed his face and then his hair.

Before leaving, he looked absently around the interior of the SUV for his umbrella but decided to just make a run for the door when he couldn't find it easily. At the moment, the state of his suit was the least of his worries. He thought that he would make a run for it as soon as he locked the door but, out of habit, he looked up at his window just as he was inserting the key in the lock.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts, that it actually took him a few seconds to realize that the light in his apartment was on when it should be off. He was sure that he'd turned off all the lights that morning; and since he wasn't expecting anyone to be there before him, that beaming rectangle of light in the midst of all the darkness stopped him in his tracks.

He didn't want to allow himself to believe, to hope that seeing that light on meant what he thought it meant. That fear of hoping and being let down paralyzed him and he stayed there, by his SUV with the key in the lock for what felt like hours until the cold of the rain snaking down his back under his shirt finally snapped him out of it.

He locked the door and walked forward – all without taking his eyes off the lighted window. Once he finally made it to his building, he went in and, though everything in him wanted to sprint for his door, he made himself walk at a moderate pace. The fight between needing to know if she was there and wanting to keep the possibility that she was there alive for as long as possible, resulted in a more sedate walk than what his usual pace.

But then, he was there – at his door and there was nothing else to do but open it and find out what was waiting for him on the other side. With a deep breath and a final silent prayer, he opened the door, closed it and walked into the living room. What he saw there, wiped the awfulness of the day from his mind and suddenly the night wasn't so dark and dreary anymore.

There she sat, on the sofa, watching TV with the living room, bedroom and kitchen lights all on. She turned her head when she heard him enter and with a smile, told him, "You're home."

_  
If you're gone - maybe it's time to come home  
There's an awful lot of breathing room  
But I can hardly move  
If you're gone – hell, baby you need to come home  
Cuz there's a little bit of something me  
In everything in you_

**A/N2: **Well? Different? Much darker than my usual. But that was intentional; I wanted to write a mood piece and I wanted to work on my description skills. Something I've been working on thanks to Mendenbar 'cause on my own, I doubt I'd have tried my hand on it for very long or very hard. I'm glad I've worked on it though, I think my skills at it are coming along very nicely. I debated long and hard about the name for this fic, the first one I picked out didn't really work here and I'll use it in a later one shot. I settled on this name because it was my first thought and I usually go with my first instinct but more importantly, because this is the fic where this start to change. This is the place where things diverge and while I am not going to go into detail about what leads to BP, here we can see the beginning of it. We can see Booth realizing that even he has a breaking point and he might soon reach it. There are two more one shots before BP happens and, I'm sorry to say, both will be angsty. In the next one, we'll see a little of how Brennan pulls back and the one after that will be a sort of a deleted scene where we'll see Booth in his apartment after he leaves Brennan and Angela in the restaurant. I am sad and a little uncomfortable about ending this series of one shots with such dark fics but since this series was intended as a bridge between Starting Point and Breaking Point, I supposed it makes sense that the end is dark. And, we know Breaking Point has a good ending, so you guys can just re-read it again to remind yourself that BB lived happily ever after. Well, please let me know what you think about this fic. I hope you enjoyed it!!!


	9. Points Of Contention

**Breaking Point**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, not mine

**A/N: **Well, here's the next one. I'm sorry I took so long to actually post it; it's been done for a quite a while but one thing and another and well, you know how it goes. This is the next to last of these one shots and it's even angstier than the last one. But we're coming on Breaking Point and as you know that was the motherload of angst so I had to set it up. It's also in a different style than the last one; as opposed to that one, this is all dialogue with the exception of a couple of places. It was kind of hard to write since I like to write narrative and not writing it was well, excruciating at times. Anyway, please let me know what you think!!

**Chapter 9: Points of Contention**

"Bones! How come you're not ready yet?"

"What? Ready for what?"

"For what? For dinner with Hank and his wife, remember? We made the plans three weeks ago."

"Oh, right. Sorry, Booth, I guess I forgot about it."

"You forgot? I reminded you last week, last night and again this morning!"

"Oh, that's right; you did. I guess it just slipped my mind."

"It slipped your . . . Ok, well, I guess that doesn't matter now. If you hurry we can still make it. We'll be a little late but I'm sure they'll understand."

"Booth, I can't go."

"What? Why not?"

"Because I have to work."

"But we made these plans weeks ago, Bones! You'd said you would go!!"

"Yes, but that was three weeks ago. I didn't know that I would have the bones of a Viking warlord to examine. It's incredibly well preserved – a once in a lifetime find, really. I'm very fortunate that I get to examine it. There's no telling what information we could learn from the remains . . ."

"Bones . . . Bones. . . Bones! I'm very happy that you got some new bones to play with don't you think you could play with them tomorrow?"

"Play with them? Booth, these are not some toys I play with!! They are historical remains that could potentially give us new insights into how the Vikings lived and died – the kind of information that is historically priceless."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry; it was an unfortunate choice of words on my part. Couldn't you wait until tomorrow to examine them?"

"No, I couldn't. This is my work, Booth; this is what I do."

"I know, Bones; I do know that. I just meant that it has already been how many hundreds of years since he died? Seven, eight hundred years?"

"More than a thousand years is more likely."

"A thousand years? Well, okay; then don't you think that examining him could wait another eight, ten hours? I mean, he's not going anywhere and neither are whatever secrets you'll discover once you examine him. And really, it's not like it's one of our cases, is it? There's no real reason why you need to hurry to get it done, is there? There's no urgency behind it; it's not like someone else is going to die if you take a little longer to finish it. After all, Vikings have already been dead for over a thousand years, right?"

"Consulting on cases for the FBI is not the only thing I do, Booth. And just because there isn't a possibility someone else will die doesn't mean that it's not important that I finish my examination in a timely manner. The work I do for the Jeffersonian is as important as the cases I help the FBI with. In fact, these types of cases are the main reason I was hired and it's important that I don't fall behind on them or let them pile up. I'm already far more behind on the limbo cases than I should be and a lot further behind than I've ever been. I have to work on this; I need to start catching up."

"I understand working on these bones is important to you, Bones – as important as the cases you work on with me but can't you put it off until tomorrow. I know your work is important – I get that; work is important to me too. But taking time off is important too. You know, all work and no play makes Bones one very dull girl."

"I don't know what you mean."

"I mean that . . . you know what? It doesn't really matter. Can you please call it a day and come with me? Hank and Wendy are waiting – I should call and let them know we'll be a little late."

"I am not going, Booth. I have to work. You should go by yourself."

"I don't want to go by myself, Bones. We were supposed to go together; you know like a date, a double date, with another couple. Me going by myself will just be . . . well, it'll make me fell like a third wheel or something. We planned this dinner weeks ago, Bones. You said you'd go."

"That was three weeks ago, Booth. I already told you I'm sorry but it's not like I planned to get this set of remains today. I have to stay and work."

"Bones, I . . . I really think you should come with me tonight. You need a night out, relax, have fun. We both need a night out, Bones."

"I don't need a _night out_, Booth – or to relax or have fun. I'm perfectly fine as I am."

"No, no, you're not, Bones. Or at least, I don't think _we_ are. I don't know if you've noticed but it's been more than ten days since we've spent any significant time, outside of work, together. I think we're way over due a night out."

"I don't see why. We've just been busy lately – _I'm_ still busy. But if you think you need a night out, go ahead and go."

"No, Bones, I don't _need_ a night out. But I would _like_ to have a night out with my girlfriend. I would like to go out on a date, relax, have some fun and maybe talk about something else other than work. And I'd really like it if my girlfriend would like the same thing."

"I am not stopping you from going out, Booth. You're perfectly capable of going out by yourself. I don't mind. But I can't go – not tonight. Maybe we could reschedule for next week?"

"I don't think so; Hank has a major case starting next week. He'll be too busy and tired. Bones, I really think . . ."

"No, Booth! I already told you I'm not going. I have work that I need to finish - work that's more important than a frivolous night out, which will include drinking and empty talk. My time will be much better spent doing something constructive - like my work!"

"Frivolous . . . empty talk? Okay, that's a little harsh. A night out might not be as academically challenging as staring at bones all night but it is a necessary part of a well rounded life."

"My life is well rounded enough."

"Bones, I'd really like you to come with me tonight. Would you please come?"

"I already told you I can't, Booth. I won't change my answer just because you keep asking. Now, if you're going to go, go. I have a lot of work to do and you're keeping me from it. I really don't have the time for this. Go! Have your night out and your fun and leave me to work in peace. I really don't have time for this!"

"Bones . . ." He said as she turned and walked away from him. Seconds later, Angela came to stand next to him.

"She didn't mean that she doesn't have time for you, sweetie. It's just this is a really important find and she's really pressed for time."

"You're probably right."

"I know I am. Just give her a little time to examine the remains. I'm sure she'll apologize as soon as she's done and you two can have a night out then. Maybe you can even talk her into going away for a night or two."

"Maybe."

"It'll be okay; you'll see. It'll all work out."

"I know, Angela. I know."

----

"So, Bones, you know what time it is?"

"No, I don't."

"It's almost one o'clock. Time to go to lunch. So, come on, let's go. I'm hungry and there's a burger with my name on it waiting at the diner for me and a salad waiting for you."

"I'm not going to lunch, Booth. I have too much work to finish to go out to lunch."

"But you need to eat."

"I'll have something from the cafeteria later."

"But you'll have more fun if you come with me to the diner."

"I don't want to have fun, Booth; I want to get my work done."

"I know that, Bones. But don't you think you'll be able to be more effective if you take a step back, rest for a little bit, think about something else and then come back to it? Sometimes, if you take a break you can come back with more energy and with better focus."

"I don't have time to take a break."

"It'll only be half an hour, Bones. You can take off for half an hour, can't you?"

"No, I can't take a break – not even for half an hour. I've been so busy with working on your cases that I've fallen behind on my own. There is a long list of consults I have to go through and respond to, I'm way behind on my schedule to identify the bodies from limbo – every time I think I'm caught up, more bodies come in and I fall behind again. And I got a message from my editor today and they need the next two chapters for my new novel by next week. And I'm behind on that too. So, no, I can't take off for half an hour."

"Bones, I . . . I miss you; it's been a while since we've spent any time together."

"What do you mean 'it's been a while'? We had dinner together last night."

"While we were working on case files; we spent most of the night talking about the case. I'm talking about spending some personal time together – you know, just us by ourselves, no case, no squints – talking about anything but work. I love spending time with Bones, my partner but I miss spending time with Bones, my girlfriend."

"'Girlfriend?' I don't like that word. Sounds too juvenile."

"What word would you like then?"

"I don't know; I just don't like how girlfriend sounds. And I really don't have the time to think about it right now."

"Well, that really wasn't the point – though after almost four years together, you should have already decided what word to use when describing our relationship. My point was that I'd like us to spend more one on one time together. We've had back to back cases for a while now and we haven't really spent any personal, private time together. I miss that; don't you?"

"I've been swamped, Booth; I haven't really had the time to think about it."

"And that's exactly what I mean, Bones. We need to spend some time together. Come on, let's go to lunch."

"I already told you, Booth, I can't. I have too much work to get caught up on. Maybe we can have lunch in a couple of days. Let's see how fast I can get caught up and I'll let you know."

"You'll let me know? What the hell, Bones? That sounds like you're going to check your appointment book and see if you can fit me in between other appointments. We have a relationship here. I shouldn't have to ask for an appointment before I get to spend some time with you."

"That wasn't how I meant it; I just meant that I have a lot of work to do and I really can't take any breaks. And the more time we spent talking about this, the longer it'll take me to finish it. So, why don't you go to the diner, have your lunch and we'll talk later?"

"I'd really like it if you'd come with me, Bones."

"I'm sorry, Booth, I can't. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go check with Hodgins about some lab results." With that, she walked away from her office and from Booth.

"I'm sure she'd also like to spend more time with you, Booth, but she's really very busy. I know she's been having trouble writing the latest chapter of her book and her editor moved up the deadline. And we have had more bodies added to limbo; you know how she gets when she feels she's not keeping up with them."

"I know, Angela. But it's really been awhile since we've spent any quality time together . . . and I just miss her."

"And she misses you, too, sweetie. You just need to be patient. As soon as work calms down some, things we'll get back to normal, you'll see."

"I hope you're right, Angela. I really hope you're right."

----

"Bones, what are you doing over here?"

"What do you mean 'what am I doing here? I work here."

"I know that. I mean what are you doing over here? I thought you'd be outside waiting for me; or at least, be ready to leave right away."

"Why would I be ready to leave? I have a lot of work to do here. There's still much to learn from the newest body we recovered."

"But we found Bernie; I told you that I was going to go pick him up for questioning. Aren't you coming with me?"

"No, I'm not. I never said I would, did I?"

"No, but I didn't think you had to said it; I just assumed you were coming because you always come with me when I interrogate suspects."

"You really shouldn't assume anything, Booth. You know how busy I've been lately. I really don't have time to go with you to interrogate anyone."

"But you always come with me. This is field work; you love field work. Remember how you nagged me until I let you participate in all aspects of the case – lab work and _field_ work?"

"I don't nag; I've never nagged. At most, I make rational arguments but I never nag."

"Bones, you nag . . . but that's not the issue right now. The issue is that you've never refused to come out to the field with me before – except for when Zack was in Iraq and you blamed me for it. Are you mad at me about something? Do you blame for anything?"

"No, I don't."

"Are you sure? Because lately you've been . . . distant. We haven't really spent any time together these last few weeks. We haven't had a conversation that wasn't about work in . . . I'm not sure how long. It just . . . I don't know. Something feels off. Don't you feel it?"

"No. I have no idea what you're talking about, Booth."

"You don't, do you? You really don't."

"No, I don't. I also don't have the time to try to decipher what you mean. I have a lot of work to do."

"Yeah, I know. You've had a lot of work to catch up on lately."

"Yes, I have. And I have to get back to it."

"Far be it for me to keep you from it."

"Right . . . well, good luck with the interrogation."

"Yeah, thanks . . . I'll let you get back to . . . whatever it is you're doing."

"Ummm, . . . I'll call you when we get the latest results – see if they incriminate your suspect or not."

"That . . . that'll be good. See you later."

"Umm, yes . . . I'll see you later."

"Right," with a last nod and after a last, lingering and longing glance in her direction, he stepped away from her office doorway. He took a few steps forward only to be stopped by Angela stepping next to him.

"She's not going with you?"

"No, she says she has a lot of work to do."

"Well, we have been swamped these last few weeks."

"Yes, I know, Angela. I've heard it before."

"Just give it some time; things will calm down and then everything will be back to normal. You'll see."

"Normal? I don't think Bones knows how to do normal, Angela."

"Okay, so she doesn't do normal – but then, neither do you. But soon things will be back to normal for you guys. Everything will be alright, you'll see."

"I wish I could believe that, Angela," Booth said a few moments later, after glancing back at Brennan once more. "I really wish I could believe that."


	10. Point of No Return

**Point of No Return**

**Disclaimer: **Neither the characters nor the song (Don't Forget About Me by Enrique Iglesias) are mine. I only wish they were.

**A/N: **Well, here we are; at the end of the road. Sorry, I was watching the Lethal Weapon movies and that song kinda got stuck in my head. But it's true. This is the last one shot for this series! Yay!!! Sometimes I thought I would never finish it. But here it is! It's a big shorter than the rest and not quite as angsty as I'd planned but even in his despair, Booth couldn't stop thinking about Brennan. *shakes head* What can you do? Anyway, I will changed the status to complete after this one shot but I reserve the right to add any more if inspiration strikes again. Don't hold your breath on that, however, as musie seems to be more interested on Criminal Minds than Bones this days. I will start writing the sequel: Turning Point, but I make no promises as to when I'll start posting, again, musie has her own ideas as to what I should be writing. I've enjoyed writing this series and if it weren't for my current lack of inspiration, I would have continued. Sadly, I'm just not as fascinated with the show as I was when I started writing. And I can't figure out why; I think I'm just kinda tired of this 'will they, won't they' dance we've been on for five years and knowing that it's already been renewed for another two makes me think they're going to make it even longer. Still, I promised I was going to write the sequel and I will, just don't expect it very soon, k? Anyway, thanks to everyone that's still reading and that takes the time to review. Especially to pup for all her work betaing and brainstorming; to Kerrie who loves this universe but still puts up with the crossover, to Mendenbar, whose reviews help me be a better writer. Your encouragement means the world, guys, Thanks!!!

-------

Booth blinked to find himself standing in the middle of his living room, with no notion of how he'd gotten there. The last half of hour was nothing but a blur; everything from the moment he'd gotten into his car and left Brennan and Angela in the restaurant's parking lot was hazy as if it had been a dream he couldn't quite recall. Frankly, he wasn't sure he wanted to remember because the half hour prior to that was crystal clear in his mind and he fervently wished he could forget it.

_They say love is just a game  
They say time can heal the pain  
Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose  
And I guess I'm just a fool  
I keep holding on to you_

He couldn't believe it was over; he just couldn't believe that after four years it was over. He shook his head and decided that he couldn't, didn't want to think about it. A beer, he needed a beer; some alcohol to numb the pain that was beginning to spread from his chest onward. But even as he walked into the kitchen, he knew that there wasn't enough alcohol in the world that could permanently numb the pain of losing his Bones. He would have to stay plastered for the rest of his life and even then, he doubted it would do much good.

As tempting as trying to drown his sorrows in a bottle was, Booth was much too disciplined to do that. Having beaten one addiction, he had no desire to develop another and he was always conscious that as a father he had to set a good example. As such he only took one bottle from the fridge and decided he would only have two that night. He was going to have to get used to living with the pain of losing Bones so he might as well start then.

His hand automatically reached for the remote when he flopped down onto the couch. And even though the TV was tuned to his favorite sports channel and his team had just won an important match, he paid no heed to any of it. Instead, all he could think about was the fact that he'd walked out on Bones. He had actually driven away and left her behind in the parking lot, calling to him that she wanted to talk. Part of him, the part that had fallen for her almost the moment they met, the part that spent the next three years teaching her to trust him and showing her what it meant to love, the part that spent the last four years working with her to make their relationship work and which never thought he could give up on her felt guilty for leaving her behind.

But the biggest part of him, the part that had spent the past few months watching as she slipped further and further away from him, watching as she retreated so far from him that the distance between them was bigger than when they first met, the part that watched, waited and hoped that their relationship was still important enough to her that it could be saved but had sadly come to the conclusion that it probably wasn't – that part of him knew there hadn't been anything else he could do but walk away because she hadn't given him any other choice.

He'd been by her side from practically the moment they met, through thick and thin and everything in between. He risked his job and reputation for her, had put his life on the line more than once to keep her safe and had given her his heart and soul. He'd been with her through all her neuroses, panic attacks and drawing back; he'd been the one to hold her when her past came back to haunt her and made her doubt who she was. And he was the one that had calmed her down whenever the thoughts of the future got too scary for her.

He'd always been there, holding on to – to her and their relationship because however hard it had been on her, he had always believed that it was worth it, that she was more than worth it. And he would have continued to keep on holding on to her and their relationship for the rest of his life if that was what was needed but there came a time when everyone and everything reached their breaking point and he'd reached his. There just didn't seem to be anything to hold on to anymore. She had even started to pull away at work; the one thing they had always been able to share and she was pulling away there too. She no longer wanted to go out into the field with him; it seemed as if she no longer wanted to be his partner at all – in any sphere of life.

_I told you once you were the one  
You know that I'd die for you  
Although it hurts to see you go  
Oh this time you should know  
I won't try to stop you_

So, he was letting go – of her and their relationship because a relationship of one was not a relationship he wanted any part of, nor was it one worth fighting for. But as sure as he was that he was doing the right thing, he still couldn't believe it had gotten to that point. He couldn't believe he had actually walked out on Bones literally and was ready to do it figuratively. He'd sworn to her and himself that he would never walk away from her and yet, here he was doing exactly that. He was breaking his promise because there was nothing else he could do – nothing else she would let him do.

It hurt, as much as anything in his life had ever hurt; letting her go hurt – on a number of levels. It hurt because he was a man of his word and breaking it did not sit right with him; it also hurt because now Bones would equate him with everyone else in her life that had walked away and left her behind and because she would never trust anyone else again and it hurt because he was losing the love of his life and he knew life would never be the same.

It hurt but sometimes life hurt and there was nothing to do but feel the pain because sometimes that was the only thing that reminded you that you were still alive when all you wanted to do was get in bed, draw the covers over your head and never come out again. And as pathetic as it might sound, he wasn't sure what hurt the most: the idea that he would have to live the rest of his life without Bones in it or the fact that he knew that by him going she was losing her best chance at happiness. Because he knew as surely as he knew his name that she just wouldn't opened up to anyone ever again; after what she was sure to perceive as a betrayal, she wouldn't be able to let anyone else in – ever.

_Don't you forget about me baby_

_Don't you forget about me now  
_

As much as the thought of losing her hurt, Booth knew that he could and would recover – someday, somehow, he would recover and go on. Bones was the love of his life, there would never be another one like her and losing her was a blow unlike any other but he'd had blows before and he'd been able to get up and continue. This time would be no different. He would grieve; he would mourn and would not want anything to do with the opposite sex for a long, long time and yet, someday, way in the future, he would be able to look back at this time and smile with bittersweet pleasure. He might not fall in love again but he could be happy finding someone to keep him company – someday.

It wouldn't be fast; he was going to hurt for a long, long time but he knew someday he'd be okay. Bones, however, would probably never recover. Whatever the reason for her pulling back had been, Booth was pretty certain that it hadn't been because she had fallen out of love with him. It had probably been that her fears got the best of her and that made him incredibly sad. He was hurting but he would be fine; she, on the other hand, was denying she was hurting and he knew she wouldn't be fine. There were no some days in her future because she wouldn't allow them. And the thought that she would be all alone, stuck in her academic ivory tower, never letting anyone in close enough to reach her hurt him as much as the thought of never holding her in his arms again, of going to bed and waking up without her by his side.

He would be miserable without her but he would let himself feel the pain and work through it; she wouldn't allow herself that weakness and that was why, in the end, she would be the one that wouldn't be able to forget him, to move on. He was sure she would deny it until her dying day but of the two of them, she would be the one that suffered the most. And given how much Booth was hurting at that moment, that was saying something.

_Some day you'll turn around and ask me, why did I let you go?_

_So you try to fake a smile  
You don't wanna break my heart  
I can see that you're afraid  
But baby it's too late  
Coz I'm already dying_

With a groan, he realized that he'd finished his beer. The last thing he wanted to do was get up but one measly beer was no where near enough to numb him – not that two would be much better but it'd be something. With another bottle of beer as a reward, he pushed up from the sofa and walked into the kitchen where he threw away the first beer bottle and took the second one of the evening from the fridge. When he left the kitchen, he turned off the light and plunged the apartment into shadows as the only light came from the TV. It created an almost spooky atmosphere and on any other night, he might be tempted to leave on a light to combat it but on this particular night, it suited his mood.

He slumped back down on the couch and tried to turn his attention to the sports news but it was no use. His head was filled with Bones and the end of their relationship. By that point the disbelief was gone and an indifferent calm has started to settle over him, though he knew that was only a thin layer that masked the cauldron of pain and anger that was at his center. And like all thin layers, it could crack at the slightest pressure. So, he tried not to think about it.

The worst part was that he knew she had no idea what had happened. He was sure she hadn't meant to hurt him and was probably still wondering why he had walked away. She wouldn't understand that it had been her own actions that had left him no option because in her mind, she wouldn't have done anything wrong. She could be so clueless sometimes and usually he found that to be one of her more endearing qualities but sometimes it could be . . . tiring. Sometimes it could be beyond tiring.

Despite his new numb state, he couldn't quite erase the look on her face when he drove away. He hadn't seen her quite that lost in a while but what else could he have done? When was it time for him to worry about himself and not her? How much would he have to hurt before it was okay to stop feeling guilty about walking away?

With a snort, Booth shook his head, he was being pathetic – she had been the one that pulled away from him, the one that had effectively ended their relationship and still, he was the one that felt guilty, the one that was worried about her. Enough was enough, he'd walked away; it was no longer his problem what she did or didn't do, what she felt or didn't feel. He had enough problems trying to figure out how he was going to get out of bed the next morning and the next and all the mornings after that, trying to figure out how he was going to tell his little boy that Dr. Bones wouldn't be around anymore. He had to figure out how to explain to a not quite eleven year old that the person that had helped tuck him in, tell him stories and answer all his questions for the last four years would no longer be around and he had to make sure to let him know it wasn't his fault. It wasn't an easy task and not one he was looking forward to.

_Don't you forget about me baby  
Don't you forget about me now  
Some day you'll turn around and ask me, why did I let you go_

Booth closed his eyes and took a deep breath before attempting to put all that aside; tomorrow would be soon enough to figure it all out. After all, he had three days off because there was no way he was going into the office in the morning. He was going to take a long weekend and figure out where he went from there. Maybe requesting a transfer would be the way to go because God knew working with Bones was not going to be easy. He had to figure out how to live his life without her in it, without being able to hug her, kiss her or hold her during the night. All that might just be easier if he wasn't constantly around her.

He made another attempt to pay attention to the television when he heard a noise from the front door. He straightened and thought to go check it out but couldn't find the energy to get up; besides, he had a pretty good idea who was outside his door. He should have known that she wouldn't be able to leave it alone. When had the woman that needed evidence before she made any kind of determination ever left anything alone she didn't completely understand? When had she stopped poking at something before she was able to fully dissect it? In a word, the answer was never. He should have known it was too much to hope for that she would follow his lead and let things be.

He let his head drop down on the back of the couch and waited for her to finally get in. Surprisingly, it took her a full five minutes before she finally entered. Even then, it took her longer than he would have thought to make her way from the entryway to the living room. When she finally made it all the way to living room, she hovered on the threshold, observing him without saying a word. And when he broke the silence, she jumped as if startled. Maybe she wasn't feeling as confident as usual. That was good; why should he be the only one that was feeling completely out of sorts in the presence of the one person in the world who usually made him feel completely at ease?

"There's nothing to talk about," he protested when, after months of avoiding it, she suddenly said they needed to talk. "I have nothing new to say and you haven't had anything to say in months. So . . ."

She continued to plead her case, going so far as to say she loved him but it wasn't until she attempted to put the blame of what was happening on him that he finally turned to look at her. And immediately wished he hadn't. Even though he maintained his 'Ranger face', he knew he was starting to weaken; seeing her look sincere and apologetic always had that effect on him. And when she tried to make contact but stopped herself at the last moment and then repeated, softly that she loved him – well, he was lost. He had never been able to resist her, even when he knew it was in his best interest to do so. With a sigh, he figured there was really nothing to lose if he listened to her. So, he did.

**A/N2: **I'm not being mean by leaving it here. For those of you who haven't read it, this leads right into chapter 5 of Breaking Point. The rest of the talk is all written out there. I just wasn't going to write it again. Actually, when I first thought of this one shot, I wasn't even supposed to get this far into the talk. It was going to end with her walking in but again, Booth had other ideas and so it didn't end up being as angsty as I wanted. At least, I don't think it's that angsty. And there's a happy ending - just go to Breaking Point and you'll read it. That fic is all done, just waiting for you guys!!


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